Dreaming of You
by newtmazer
Summary: Sometimes dreams can stir up the dearest wishes of our hearts. When Newt starts dreaming of the Glade's newest Greenie, he has to come to terms with a variety of feelings that aren't all that easy to tame. Newt/Thomas, includes also a bit of Newt/Alby.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story has been forming on my mind for months and months. Basically I've always thought Newt and Thomas didn't get enough time together in the Glade and then I decided to give them that. Time.

Please note that the story is rated **M** for several mature themes.

Feedback would be more than appreciated!

Here we go, then. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Woke up sweating from a dream<em>

_With a different kind of feeling_

The wind carried the sound of a tiny crack to Newt's ears. It sounded as if a twig had snapped under a step. The blond-haired boy whirled around, his eyes scanning the forest around him. It was silent, almost too silent. The faint light of the early evening barely made its way through the thick foliage overhead. Newt furrowed, confused, but after a while of standing still and observing, he turned back towards where he was heading, starting to walk forward with more hesitant steps.

He passed several large trees until he heard the voice again. This time he was sure it came behind him – and much closer. Newt turned on his heels again and startled as he saw a figure – a very familiar one – right there.

"What the bloody- _Tommy?_" Newt stared at the dark-haired boy with a surprise clear on his face, taking an involuntary step back.

Thomas stood only about a few yards away. _How did he manage to move almost without a bloody sound so fast? _He was looking at Newt with such intensity in his eyes it took Newt's breath away.

The Greenie was clothed as usual, the sleeves of his pale blue shirt rolled up to his elbows. His stance was rigid somehow, his fingers itching slightly, and _what is that look in his eyes?_

As Newt frowned again, Thomas licked his lips and finally said with a strangely husky voice, "Newt, I was looking for you."

"Well, here I am. What'd you need me for, then, Tommy?" Newt asked, crossing his arms, feeling a bit uneasy now. A sliver of worry flickered in the pit of his stomach.

Slowly Thomas took a tiny step forward, closer to Newt, never taking his eyes off of the older boy.

"I had.. something important on my mind," Thomas said quietly, taking another step forward.

Newt swallowed hard without really knowing why. He stood still, as if frozen to the spot, watching Thomas's every move closely.

"I'm.. listening," Newt said, his voice a bit strained now. As Thomas got closer to him, he felt himself stepping back, his heel hitting the bark of a tree. _How did that buggerin' tree come so close?_

"Why do you back away from me, Newt?" Thomas whispered. He was so close now that Newt heard him clearly even though his voice was quiet and low.

"I-I'm not- Tommy, what are-" Newt tried, but stopped short as he felt a finger press against his lips. Newt's eyes widened a bit and he took a quick intake of breath as he stared into Thomas's stormy eyes. They were only inches apart from his own.

"Shh.. Newt.. I really like it when you call me Tommy, you knew that?" Thomas's lips curled into a devilish smirk and his hazel eyes burned as his voice whispered the words.

Newt moved his lips slightly, shocked by Tommy's words and his acts. He tried to wrap his mind around what was happening, but he couldn't – and then Thomas brushed his lips with his thumb, his gaze lowering to where his finger was resting.

Newt's heart was pounding fast in his chest and some wild, strong emotion was unfurling low in his belly. His lips tingled under Thomas's touch and his breathing started to grow heavy. _What.. what is this?_

Thomas began to lean closer ever so slowly, slipping his other hand to the side of Newt's neck, caressing it gently under his touch. Newt's eyes fell shut at the sensation. This was unlike everything he'd ever experienced before. The touch was simple, but so intimate somehow, and it was slowly but surely driving him crazy.

Their bodies were almost touching now. Newt's hands were shaking uselessly by his sides. Thomas was so, so close.. And then he felt a brush of lips on his ear. Thomas's lips sucked his earlobe lightly, his hot breath fanning over his skin. Newt felt as if his whole body was on fire, he was shaking and a quiet moan escaped his lips. He couldn't understand what this all was about, but he couldn't have cared less about the _why _at the moment, as long as Thomas kept touching him.

"How do you feel, Newt? How do I make you feel?" Thomas sighed into his ear. His lips left a trail of tiny, slow pecks along his jaw and Newt strained his neck to the side slightly to give him more room to play with.

"I-ah-Thhomas-" Newt breathed weakly, his skin heavy with sensations.

Thomas pulled his lips away from Newt's skin, staying at a close proximity. As Newt slowly opened his heavy eyelids, he found himself lost in the hazel-coloured, burning irises. His breath stuttered in his chest as Thomas's hand moved to thread itself in Newt's hair on the side of his head.

"My.. Tommy," Newt whispered. Thomas's eyes seemed to flare into an even brighter fire at that and suddenly his lips were swallowing his own hungrily.

Newt's eyes closed shut as he felt his back slam to the bark of the tree behind him. His hands found their way to Thomas's body, his fingers exploring his strong sides, moving along his back as Thomas kissed him with such fierceness that was sure to bruise his lips. Not that Newt minded in the least.

Their bodies pressed tightly together. Thomas savoured Newt's mouth earnestly, his hands buried in Newt's hair, pulling it at times. Their kiss was almost desperate, it burned like a bright fire, hot and dangerous. They clung to each other, gasping into each other's mouths and Newt felt like his world was going to explode.

That was, until he felt Thomas's hands lower on his body, one of his hands coming lower and lower until it descended right on top of his hardened front, squeezing lightly.

Newt's eyes snapped open at the contact that sent waves and waves of unexpected pleasure, dizziness and desire wash through his entire body. The emotion was so strong that he felt something shatter inside himself, and somehow his whole sight started to spin, faster and faster. He tried calling out to Thomas as his touch started to distance itself from him, his figure blurring before him, the whole world spinning, spinning, spinning..

*.*.*

Newt bolted upright in a flash. His whole body was covered in sweat and he was breathing hard, as if he had just run a marathon. His eyes scanned the dark room wildly, trying to make sense of what was going on. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he realised that he was inside the Homestead, on his very own bed. He eased his tightened fists from the sheets that were tangled in his legs and stuck his hands in his hair, shaking his head in order to make sense of things.

He had dreamed. Of _Thomas._ Dreamed a very vivid dream indeed. A bright flush rose to his cheeks at the mere thought of it and a strange emotion churned in his stomach. _What the bloody-_

At that moment, he became conscious of another sensation. He had this sticky, wet feeling just under the waistline of his trousers..

Newt moaned aloud. "Oh for the love of-"

The flush on Newt's cheeks burned even hotter now, if that was even possible. His insides felt all tense and his mind was one jumbled mess. He wiped his face with his hands, groaning.

He had just had a very passionate dream of the Glade's newest Greenie. And he had come straight in his pants by the thought of making out with him.

He was so shucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you so much for the lovely feedback of chapter 1! This is my first ever chaptered fic and I appreciate every single word I receive from my readers. Please let me know what you think!

Let's continue with chapter 2, then. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>You're in my veins <em>

_And I cannot get you out_

Newt jumped out of his bed, his hands still shaking. He walked over to the other side of the room and rummaged through the small chest of drawers which held most of his wardrobe. Over the years it hadn't grown much but it was all he needed, anyway. He snatched a clean pair of underwear, sand-coloured trousers and a white tank top from the bottom drawer and changed, putting on his shoes right after.

It was still early, which Newt preferred as he gathered his ruined pants and some other pieces of his dirty clothing from the drawers. Not too many eager eyes would be looking after his activities in the laundry room. He hugged the messy heap of clothes against his chest and headed for the door.

Just as he was twisting the handle to open the door, someone from the other side of it pushed it wide open. Startled, Newt yelped and stepped back with wide eyes.

Alby, his hand still on the door knob, looked about as taken aback as Newt. The dark-skinned boy opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then he straightened and cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck absently.

Newt got himself together quicker. "Alby, why were you creeping behind my bloody door like that?"

Alby looked a bit embarrassed for a second before a slight smile spread over his face.

"Well, I was just gonna come and see if you're already awake. It's been busy last couple of days and I have barely seen you these days.." Alby's gaze lowered to the clothes Newt was holding close. "What were you planning to do with those, huh?"

Newt scowled, puffing air out of his lungs and wishing the slight blush that still coloured his cheeks wouldn't stood out too noticeably. "What does it bloody look like?" Newt muttered, a bit annoyed. "Man's gotta wash his clothes from time to time. Gonna carry these to the laundry and get the washing over with."

Alby took a step closer, lowering his hand to rest on Newt's arm, squeezing it. "I could take care of those for you, ya know. That way we could have the time to start this day off quite pleasantly, don't you think?" Alby whispered suggestively, looking Newt in the eyes.

Newt shivered but not out of pleasure. Somehow Alby's touch felt cold, possessive. Newt frowned and took a step back, letting Alby's hand hover alone in the air for a while before the boy pulled it back, a look of hurt flashing across his features quickly before disappearing.

"Is something wrong, Newt?" Alby asked, an odd expression on his face.

Newt swallowed quickly, adjusting the clothes better in his lap. He shook his head slightly, forcing a smile on his lips that he hoped looked at least half as reassuring as he intended.

"Sure, Alby, I'm as good as ever. It's just.. lots to do today. And you know I can't stand anyone else taking care of my own things," Newt pointed out. "I'll catch up later with ya, deal?"

The older boy looked at him with searching eyes but in the end seemed to give up. He nodded, stepped aside and let Newt hurry past him. As the slightly limping boy scurried down the stairs, Alby couldn't help but look after him, wondering what was going on in that blonde head of his.

*.*.*

Newt's head truly was a mess. The boy crouched beside a huge bucket full of soap and water, kneading his dirty clothing furiously with his hands. He felt mortified that Alby had almost walked in on him like that. He knew the boy had only meant good as usual. They had both truly been busy lately and it felt like forever since they had spent some time together.

Something had changed after the newest Greenie had arrived. Thomas wasn't like those other winy, lost and scared Newbies. He wasn't anything like Newt had been during his first days in the Glade. It had taken a very long time before Newt had felt like he could trust a soul in there. He had isolated himself, crept in the shadows, hadn't talked to anyone and kept everyone away. He still got shivers remembering those dark, lonely few weeks when he had cried himself to sleep, hiding in the woods.

Newt had grown so much since those days. Alby had been the first person in the Glade to get close enough to coax him out of his shell, little by little. Slowly Newt had started to find himself again, to create bonds with the Gladers and start to think of them as a family of sort. There were still parts of him that he would never show to anybody, parts that he would protect from everyone. He didn't put his trust on people blindly. In fact, he considered very few people in the Glade close enough to call them his friends. He had grown to be a person that the others looked up to, a steady rock the other Gladers could seek support from and trust him to stay calm and keep things in order no matter what happened. But his heart was one thing he didn't open up to just anyone.

Thomas wasn't anything like Newt had been in his situation. During his first day, yes, Thomas had been lost, freaking out and scared. But just overnight the boy's whole attitude had changed. He had started to question things more than almost any other Greenie Newt had crossed paths with. His curiosity, his thirst to just _know things_ was insatiable. He was actively putting his mind to work, to doubt, to figure things out, to make sense of everything. He was already one of the smartest and brightest minds Newt had ever met. Thomas was brave and loyal, witty and independent. He worked hard no matter what they made him do; he wanted to prove himself constantly even if the job itself would be the lowest on his list of how to spend his time. But by no means was Thomas submissive. He had extremely strong opinions and he would not be easily swayed when he got his mind on something. But still he wasn't-

The unmistakable sound of shower spray hitting the stone tiles pierced Newt's ears, cutting his wandering thoughts abruptly. Newt shook his head, blinking his eyes back to focus. How long had he stayed like this, just staring into nothingness, oblivious to the world around him? His hands had stopped their movements, the water feeling cold against his skin.

Newt straightened and decided to make a quick job with the rest of the washing. He had waisted enough bloody time. He felt his ears burn as he wondered how easily his mind always slipped back to Thomas these days.

He hurried to change the dirty water and rinsed the washed clothes. He hoped to clear out of the place before the unidentified, poor Glader would burst out naked from the showers. He surely didn't need that image glued to the back of his eyelids.

Right then a new voice drifted from the showers, freezing Newt to the spot. His eyes widened from shock as the somewhat muffled sounds of human moans broke the steady sound of spraying water. There was no mistaking what kind of activity caused those low groans that filled Newt's ears and made the room feel suddenly hotter than before.

As the groans gradually grew more frequent, Newt felt his own pulse accelerating. His pants started to feel a bit too tight and he groaned low in his throat, cursing his bloody luck. This couldn't be happening.

It didn't take long as the last and loudest moan by far was heard from the neighbouring room. Newt felt extremely uncomfortable by the whole situation but something – he had no buggerin' clue as to what – held him glued to the spot, the bucket full of washed clothes shaking in his hands. There was something in that voice, something that was almost, distantly, familiar..

Suddenly the shower quieted. The silence that followed snapped Newt finally out of his daze - _What the bloody hell is happening to me? _and he rushed toward the door leading out of the laundry room. Just as he was about to push the door open, though, there was another voice, calling out to him and once again freezing him to the spot. Newt felt his heart skip a beat as he immediately recognized the owner of the voice. A shiver ran down his spine.

"_Newt?_"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hello again! I've been pretty busy lately and I was initially planning on updating earlier but here I am with chapter 3 now! Thank you for your reviews again, keep them coming! Nothing makes me happier than hearing your thoughts (except maybe newtmas).

I also added a cover image for my story. I've never done anything much with photos but I wanted my story to have one so I decided to try something out.. What do you think about it?

Now, enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>I think I might've inhaled you<em>

_I can feel you behind my eyes_

Newt turned around slowly. As his eyes descended on the figure before him, he felt the air leave his lungs in a shuddering breath.

Thomas was standing at the doorway leading to the showers, steamy air drifting from the room behind him. All over his tanned skin droplets of water were traveling down his body. A white towel was hanging low on his hips, his other hand holding it in place just below his hipbone. The muscles on his stomach and chest were moving slightly as the boy was breathing a bit faster than normal.

Little by little, Newt raised his gaze to the boy's face, swallowing hard. Thomas's dark hair was even darker as it was still wet from the shower and the nearly black locks were curled a bit. Thomas was looking straight at him, his lips parted slightly, a mortified expression on his beautiful, open face.

All the thoughts had cleared out of Newt's head. He was completely fascinated by the sight before his eyes. Fascinated.. and turned on as hell.

"Newt?" Thomas said his name again. "W-what - When did you get in here? I swear I didn't know anyone would be here at this time and it was so quiet-" His words were rushed and as he spoke his cheeks started to flush.

Newt cleared his throat trying get rid of the lump that had appeared there just minutes ago, making his voice hoarse. "I was here all the bloody time! I didn't hear you coming in either except when you started runnin' the water. Why were you showering so bloody early, anyway? No one does that."

Thomas ran a hand through his wet hair, letting it stick out of his head a bit. Newt couldn't help but notice the slight tremble in his muscles as he moved.

"Well, I've noticed you shanks like to sleep till the last minute before you're made to wake up, so I decided to use that as an advantage. I prefer to shower in peace and not have to queue all night long, anyway.." Thomas's voice quieted toward the end of his sentence, adjusting the towel better to his hips. Newt's gaze was immediately drawn to the movement but he quickly corrected himself, staring back into those hazel eyes before making things even more awkward for both of them.

"Well, I guess that's.. sane." Newt really had to leave until he did something stupid. It was getting harder and harder to stay still by every passing second as the mix of hot, steamy air and the scent of Thomas were flooding his senses.

"Anyway, I should get going. Gonna get these to dry nice n' clean," Newt muttered quickly. He moved the bucket in his hands a bit awkwardly, holding it tightly in place to hide his lower body and the bulge in his trousers before meeting Thomas's eyes once again. "You're gonna help Frypan in the kitchen today, aren't you, Greenie?"

"Good that," Thomas nodded, biting his lip.

Newt shivered at the gesture, shaking his head and starting to turn around and leave the scene, finally. "Good that. Alright.. See ya around, Tommy!"

"Newt! Wait!"

Newt stopped his movements, his hand already grasping the door handle. He closed his eyes and tried to stay calm.

"Yes, Tommy?" He didn't dare to turn around.

"I just- uh- I was just wondering.. you didn't hear anything, did you? Uh- earlier?"

There was the tiniest tremor in the younger boy's voice as he said those words. Newt felt his heart pounding hard against his ribs.

"No, Tommy, I-.. Just.. water." And then Newt couldn't stand it any longer. He rushed out of the door and closed it hastily behind him. He leaned his back against it, letting out a huge breath, groaning.

The day was just getting better and better.

*.*.*

Newt made his mission to keep himself as busy as possible. He stomped around the Glade helping the other boys out here and there. Everywhere else but in the kitchen. He had made a mental note to stay as far away from the kitchen as possible. He had even skipped meals because he really didn't want to see Thomas right now. Inside his head a tiny voice kept scolding him for being stupid and acting like a bloody child but his legs simply refused to go anywhere near those corners.

The arrival of the weekly supplies in the afternoon stopped the normal schedule of the day for good few hours. The ear-splitting voice of the alarm called the Gladers to gather around the Box, waiting for the lift to arrive and to finally shut the voice down. Newt kept glancing around him and as it came clear that Frypan and the cooks would stay in the kitchen as they often did (it would soon be dinner time anyway), he couldn't help feeling immensely relieved but inexplicably disappointed at the same time. He was safe from running into Thomas for now.

Finally the horrible howl quieted and was replaced by the familiar voices of the lift arriving to the top with clicks and stutters. Newt nodded for a couple of boys who tore the doors of the Box open together, revealing the lift with its contents.

There was nothing unusual about the supplies they got this week, Newt noted. Food, some wood, new pairs of shoes, soap, some other things they'd asked and the Creators had been willing to give, etc. Newt started to bark orders for the boys to pick up the stuff and carry them where they belonged.

Slowly but surely the Box started to drain out of supplies. As Newt was gesturing to one of the boys to take the flour sacks to the kitchen, he noticed movement at the corner of his eye. He turned his head just in time to see a blond-haired, strongly muscled boy hovering over a basket full of Med-jack's equipment and slipping something in his pocket. Newt felt familiar irritation tugging at the edges of his mind.

"Ben, you bloody shank! How many times have I talked to your shuck head about this?" Newt yelled to the boy, stepping closer to the edge of the Box.

The boy in question whirled around, looking up at Newt. A wicked smile started to spread on his face. "What are you yapping about, Newt? I'm only doing what I'm told, saving your sore ass from the dirty work and getting the supplies delivered," he said with a mocking grin, lifting the basket to his lap.

Newt felt the fury get the better of him. "How dare you lie straight to my face, you filthy little-"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic! It's only one bottle, there's another one for Med-jacks as well. It's no big deal," Ben interrupted. His smile was full of arrogance.

Newt's gaze turned murderous and he lowered himself, jumping down to the Box, next to Ben.

"I told you once, don't test me, Ben. I won't say it again. Empty your pockets. Now," Newt said a warning and a threat clear in his voice.

Ben turned to face him fully, staring back with defiance. He was just about to snark straight back when another, deeper voice interrupted him from above.

"What's going on here?"

Both boys looked up at Alby who was standing at the edge of the Box, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging under his shirt.

"Nothing," Ben smiled. "Newt's just being his lovely, cheery self as usual. Alby, you should take better care of your," Ben winked at Newt, "_friends _and their _needs_."

Newt's eyes widened with rage but right then Ben started to climb out of the Box without another word. As he rose to the ground next to Alby, however, the dark-skinned boy took hold of his arm, stopping him. Ben rolled his eyes and took the bottle of alcohol from his hoodie pocket, slamming it to Alby's hand. Alby let him go but kept looking after him with narrowed, doubtful eyes.

After the boy was gone, Newt started to rise out of the lift himself. When he was standing next to Alby, the boy grasped his shoulder, making Newt face him. Newt glanced at Alby's hand before raising his troubled eyes to Alby's.

"Newt, are you sure you're ok? What was that about down there?" Alby asked him with worry clear on his face.

Newt scowled after the retreating Builder, many yards away now. "I'm bloody fine, Alby! The slinthead was just being an arrogant shuck as usual. That bloody shank doesn't know when to shut his hole. Can't keep to his own buggerin' business, always snooping where he bloody shouldn't," he spat venomously.

"Come on, you know how Ben's been lately. Nothing new there. Honestly, what's going on with you? You're tight as a wire these days," Alby frowned at him, moving his hand lower to Newt's bicep.

Again something cold shivered down Newt's skin at Alby's touch. He figured Alby had a point though.

"It's nothing, just sleeping badly. Nothin' to worry about," he mumbled. Unconsciously his gaze swept over the kitchen corners, an unreadable expression flashing across his face which didn't escape unnoticed under Alby's eyes.

"I could give you company, Newt. Help you sleep better. All you have to do is ask, you know that, right?" Alby whispered, raising his hand to sweep his fingers across Newt's cheek lightly.

With a slight bolt Newt stepped back, a small step but one that made the hurt expression appear in Alby's eyes again, longer this time. Newt swallowed and avoided the other boy's eyes.

"I know, Alby, sure. But I.. I think it's not a good idea. Sleeping with someone has never made a difference before, you know that," he said, a bit embarrassed now, but certain of his words.

Alby looked at him, quiet, for a long time. In the end he let out a deep breath, shaking his head slightly.

"Yeah, well, if you say so. I'll.. go on from here. Take a break or, something," he muttered with a low voice, turning around and walking off toward the group of approaching Gladers.

Newt stared after him for a while, wondering what the hell Alby must be thinking about him these days. He couldn't blame the boy though. He hardly knew what to think of himself, either.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hey there! I wish you all had a good weekend! Here's chapter 4 for you, keep letting me know your thoughts! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>There's so many things I wanna say<br>But there's too many things still in the way _

Few hours later, after the Doors had sealed shut, Newt made his way to the Homestead, holding his dry and clean laundry in his hands. The place was starting to fill up, the Gladers having almost finished their work of the day. Newt nodded to a few boys in acknowledgement as he climbed the stairs to the first floor of the messy construction.

He opened the door leading to his room and closed it shut behind him. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Slowly he walked to his bed and sat on top of the mattress, dumping the clean clothes in a heap next to him.

Then a hesitant knock at the door pierced the silence of the room. Newt went rigid and frowned, confused. Wondering who it would be and fearing the worst, he got up and walked to the door, throwing it open.

Newt's eyes widened a bit. "Tommy?" he croaked, utterly taken aback by the boy's appearance.

Thomas stared at him, looking more or less out of place, before clearing his throat and slightly raising his hand which was grasped around a small paper bag.

"Yeah.." Thomas murmured, biting his lip in a nervous manner.

Newt adjusted himself to lean on the doorframe, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. "What are you doing here?" he asked a bit in wonder.

Thomas shifted awkwardly from foot to foot before answering, raising his eyes to meet Newt's. "Well, you didn't show up at dinner. Nor lunch. Nor.. breakfast, I guess, either. I gathered you'd be hungry by now, so I grabbed you something from the kitchen and brought it, then. Here," Thomas held the bag to him, avoiding his eyes now.

Newt glanced between the bag and the boy, even more taken aback now. His stomach made a loud grumbling noise right then and there. He _was_ hungry. "Uh, thanks, Greenie," he said, taking the bag from the boy. Thomas flashed a small smile and looked a bit lost at what to do next but then Newt opened his mouth again, surprising them both.

"Hey, you could come in if you want," Newt blurted out.

_What the hell did I just do?_

Newt could hear the hitch of breath Thomas took in at Newt's words and the way his body stilled. Newt swallowed hard.

Thomas was quiet for a while, staring into Newt's dark brown eyes. Then he turned his head slightly, avoiding Newt's eyes again.

"I-I have to go back to the kitchen. Frypan's orders. I didn't finish the dishes yet," Thomas explained hastily, trying to ease his words with a smile that seemed forced to Newt.

Newt couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointment and _hurt _wash through him. He blinked, confused by both Thomas's words and his own reaction to them but then got a grip of himself and answered, "Oh, yeah, sure. Work before all else, right?" He flashed a forced smile himself, starting to close the door again. "Enjoy yourself, Tommy."

Thomas twitched visibly at his words and looked as if he was about to say something but the door before him was already closed.

Newt listened on the other side of the door, his heart pounding loud in his chest. It took a while but in the end he heard Thomas's steps walking down the stairs.

Newt walked back to his bed, sitting down and leaning his elbows to his knees, burying his hands into his hair in frustration. His whole body suddenly felt so empty and his chest was inexplicably tight.

_What the hell is happening to me?_

*.*.*

It was dark and only the faint light of the moon illuminated the simple, small room lightly. Newt stared out of the window, his head resting on his pillow, his other hand tucked under it. It was so calm, so quiet..

Suddenly the bed under him shifted, as if another body had settled beside him. Newt turned his head around fast and felt breath leave his lungs as his eyes registered the moon-lit features of the boy next to him.

"_Tommy?_" he stuttered. "What- _How-_"

A smile started to spread slowly on Thomas's lips. He looked ravishing in the moonlight; his dark hair was almost black and his white shirt had rode up revealing the smooth skin of his stomach. The boy was lying on his side and leaning to the bed with his elbow.

"Always so questioning, aren't you, Newt?" Thomas murmured, starting to slide his hand over the narrow space between them. As his warm fingers found Newt's waist, sliding over his stomach and splaying over his hip, Newt's eyes closed shut and he sighed with pleasure. Such a small gesture but it was as if his skin was overly sensitive to Thomas's hands, every touch magnified.

"I-ah just wanna-" Newt mumbled as Thomas started to move his hand up his body, lifting his shirt higher as it slid over his side, brushing his nipple with his thumb, making Newt swallow and moan at the sensation, "know h-how you always manage to – ahh – sneak up on me-"

Thomas moved quickly, pushing Newt to his back, climbing to straddle his waist, both his hands resting on Newt's bare sides. Newt opened his eyes, taken by surprise, a breath escaping his lungs again. Thomas leaned over him, his lips descending on his jaw, starting to leave a trail of kisses there. Newt moaned under him and his hands finally found Thomas's body, slipping under his shirt to touch the muscles that quivered under his touch.

"Always so.. curious," Thomas whispered to his ear, nipping it with his teeth. Newt growled and moved his head to the side as Thomas started leaving open mouthed, wet kisses to his neck. Thomas's hands roamed over Newt's abdomen, starting to tug the shirt he was wearing.

Newt lifted himself obediently off the bed as Thomas's hands pulled his shirt off of him. He returned the favour by tearing Thomas's shirt over his head as well, then pulled him down against him, skin to skin.

As their lips touched, it was as if Newt was swallowed by a flame. Every part of his body started to burn, burn for Thomas, burn for more, more, _more. _Their mouths savoured each other as their bodies clung together, moving against each other. Their breathing grew heavier by each passing second, and Newt couldn't take it much longer.

He tore his mouth away from Thomas's. "Tommy, Tommy- _ahh-_" Thomas started attacking his neck again, distracting Newt badly. "Tommy, I need- I need you to- _there-_"

Thomas froze against him but after a second Newt could feel a smile spreading over his lips against his neck. Ever so slowly, Thomas started to kiss his neck again, his lips leaving a hot trail on his skin as his hands started to lower themselves on Newt's body, starting to tug at his trousers.

Newt lifted his hips eagerly off the bed, letting Thomas ease his trousers down with his underwear. Thomas gave Newt's lips a bruising kiss and then his hand was around him, squeezing lightly, starting to move excruciatingly _slow.._

"_Tommy!_"

*.*.*

Newt opened his eyes and was up, leaning his palms to the mattress, in mere seconds. His head felt dizzy and it took him a moment to become aware of his surroundings again. Taking in huge gulps of air he tried to calm himself down and wrap his mind around what was real and what wasn't.

_It was a dream, you bloody idiot. Just.. a dream._

Newt squeezed his eyes shut, tugging at his hair with his hand, trying to push off the pain that was swirling through his chest. He couldn't understand why he was feeling so hurt, so out of place, as if there was something _missing _inside of him.

Why did the bloody Greenie always linger on the edge of his mind these days? Why did this ridiculous, smart, stubborn boy make him feel this way? Him and his.. body.

Newt groaned at the throbbing feeling in his pants. He couldn't ignore it no matter how hard he tried. Finally giving up, Newt settled back to his bed, guiding his hand under his pants to take care of the result of his dream.

It didn't take long before Newt's world turned into a bliss of pleasure and relief. As he breathed in and out, listening to his heart beat rapidly in his chest, he couldn't help turning his head to the side, watching the side of the bed that was now empty but only a while ago had been occupied by another boy.

Even if it all had happened in his head.. he hadn't ever felt like this before.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **It's time for chapter 5 now! I hope you're all having a lovely weekend. This chapter is one of my favourites and I had so much fun writing it! I wish you enjoy it as well! Keep sharing your thoughts with me, thank you!

* * *

><p><em>And it's you and me and all of the people<br>And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you_

Next morning Newt walked to the kitchen with weariness taking over his features. After he had woken up from the dream, he had barely slept at all. The lack of sleep would soon become his doom if he couldn't find a solution to restore his peace of mind.

Most of the Gladers were up and munching their breakfasts in quiet. There wasn't much chatter in the mornings as everyone was trying to blink the sleepiness from their eyes. Newt snatched an apple from a large bowl on the table and searched an empty table to sit at and sulk.

Newt was chewing his bite of the apple as a plate full of porridge appeared opposite him on the table with a loud clank, startling Newt out of his thoughts. As Newt blinked his eyes, Minho slipped into the seat on the other side of the table, smirking.

"Good morning, sunshine!" the Asian boy chirped. Newt just scowled and wondered what the bloody hell had gotten the other boy so buggin' cheery all of a sudden.

"Ah, having a bad day, then? Do share what's gotten your pretty face all scrunched up like that. Doesn't suit you, ya know," Minho mocked, taking a spoonful of the grey mash into his mouth and kicking Newt under the table.

Newt growled and grimaced, irritated. "Shut your hole, shank! Not everyone shares your bloody early birdiness. I'm definitely not in a mood to your yappings right now."

Minho frowned, a look of worry settling on his eyes, replacing the mirth quickly.

"Mate, are you okay? Now that I look at you, you don't look too good. What's buggin' you, really?" Minho asked him, leaning his elbows on the table.

Newt avoided Minho's eyes, swiping a frustrated hand through his hair. "It's nothing, Minho. I'm just tired. Why does every buggerin' soul keep asking that from me," he mumbled, taking another small bite of his apple to distract himself.

"It's a reasonable question, you know. I'm not gonna push you though. We all know where that leads.." Minho chuckled and shook his head slightly, earning another death glare from Newt.

Minho rolled his eyes and changed the subject. "Anyway, yesterday, there was some new stuff for Runners amongst the supplies. We got these new watches that..."

Newt found himself tuning out of Minho's babble as his ears registered other voices behind him. Newt turned his head slightly and caught a sight of Thomas conversing with Frypan.

The dark-haired boy was smiling and clearly joking with the cook as they both started sniggering to something he had said. As the boy finished collecting his breakfast, he nodded to Frypan and turned around, facing the room. Suddenly Newt found himself staring straight at those hazel eyes.

Newt's eyes widened a bit and quickly he whirled his head back to his own breakfast, his cheeks starting to burn slightly from the embarassment of getting caught looking.

"...you even listening to what I'm saying?" Minho stopped his excited rambling suddenly and glared at Newt with narrowed eyes. Newt bit his lip and was about to answer when he was distracted as Minho suddenly moved in his chair to glance behind Newt, spotting Thomas still near the counter.

Quickly Minho raised his hand, gesturing for Thomas while a grin spread over his lips again. "Oi, Thomas! Come over and sit with us!"

Newt froze. He stared at Minho with widened eyes, completely horrified by the turn of events. This wasn't at all how his morning was supposed to go. He opened and closed his mouth a few times but no sound came out. Minho raised his eyebrows at him, wondering his friend's odd reaction.

Eventually Thomas appeared beside Minho, sitting on another chair after the older boy had shifted to make some space for him. Minho clapped the dark-haired Greenie to his back, grinning widely. Newt kept his gaze on the table, stubbornly munching his apple.

"Morning," came Thomas's voice, a little unsure. Newt found himself inhaling his smell again and his eyes met Thomas's without a conscious thought. He swallowed hard and quickly tore his eyes away, nodding to the boy in acknowledgement, suddenly unable to open his mouth.

"Ignore Newt, he's been a cranky little bugger the whole morning," Minho chattered cheerfully and Newt scowled him yet again. "Wouldn't even listen to me telling him about our new Runner equipment," he continued with a disapproving tone.

That certainly seemed to spark Thomas's interest and he turned his watchful gaze to Minho, inquiring for more details.

The two of them engaged in excited conversation about the Runners and their equipment and Newt found himself totally ignored. His eyes kept sneaking glances at the boy opposite him more often than not. The boy's whole appearance seemed to glow somehow as he listened to Minho rambling about Runners and there was no mistaking the passion in his voice as he offered his opinions. Newt really couldn't wrap his mind around it, wondering how it could be possible for a Greenie to be that keen on becoming a Runner.

At times his eyes would linger on the boy's mouth for a little too long and few times he was caught when Thomas's eyes swept over him at the same time. Newt tried to composure himself as best he could every time but he didn't notice Minho's pensive gaze scrutinizing the two boys before him.

"You'll make one hell of a Runner some day, Thomas. I'm sure of that," Minho stated, grinning.

Newt watched as a wide smile spread over Thomas's lips for the praise. "So, is it decided, then? Have I been chosen as a Trainee?" There was no mistaking the utter excitement in his voice.

Minho opened his mouth to answer but Newt suddenly cut in.

"No, nothing's decided yet." Both Minho and Thomas startled a bit, hearing his voice again after his long silence. "You still have some proving to do. The decision of your future job here will be done by the Keepers, depending on how you've managed with each of them and the work. Not long to go anymore, though. The Gathering will be held by the end of the week, I suppose."

Thomas nodded slowly, playing with the napkin he'd taken from the counter.

"What's left for you, then? I thought you had already tried out every job possible here," Minho asked, sitting back in his chair after having finished his breakfast as well.

Thomas glanced at Newt before answering.

"If I'm right, it's my last day with the different Keepers. I'm yet to spend a day with the Builders," Thomas explained and eyed Newt with a question in his voice. Newt nodded curtly.

"Oh man, good luck with those shuckheads! I hated that day back when I was a Greenie. Gally's been one buggerin' bastard since his very first day. Can't stand the guy," Minho shuddered at the memory of his Builder day.

"Yeah and Gally's not the only bastard in that lot," Newt muttered darkly as his hands turned into tight fists under the table.

Thomas watched him with a frown on his face as Minho suddenly declared it was time to start the day's work. They all started to rise from their chairs and took their dishes to the counter.

"See ya around, shanks!" Minho grinned at them and without waiting for a response, he quickly made his way out of the kitchen, leaving Thomas and Newt by themselves.

They glanced at each other warily and just as Newt couldn't stand the tension between them anymore, there was a shout at the door.

"Hey, Greenie! Get your lazy butt outside and quit trying to put off your responsibilities! It's time to work," Gally sneered, a group of Builders in tow. Newt noticed Ben amongst them and his gaze hardened immediately.

Thomas straightened his spine and glared at the boys, clearly irritated. Newt took one glance at him and took a step forward, opening his mouth before Thomas could react.

"I would've liked to see you even up and about by this hour when you were Greenie yourself, Gally. Not much to brag about there," Newt shouted back at the Builder.

Gally's face darkened as he narrowed his eyes at Newt. "Shut up, Newt. Come on, Greenie, we don't have all day to waste for chit-chat," Gally ordered, starting to back away with the other Builders following suit.

By Newt's side, Thomas seemed more or less taken aback. Suddenly he cleared his throat and seemed to gather himself. "I guess I'd better go," Thomas muttered after the Builders had backed off. "Thanks for standing up for me. You wouldn't have needed to do that, though."

Newt noticed Thomas's tight jaw and guessed the boy wasn't all pleased by his interference. He elbowed the younger boy lightly to the side, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth. "I know you're one tough Greenie, Tommy. I know you could've handled it yourself, too. Gally's one irritating shank and he won't go easy on you today. Try not to end up into the Slammer, 's all I say."

Thomas's lips twitched with amusement and his eyes sparkled as he looked at Newt.

"We'll see about that," Thomas quipped and started to retreat to the door finally.

Something flickered in the pit of Newt's stomach and suddenly he stepped forward and seized Thomas's arm, stopping the boy in his tracks. Thomas turned around, looking at Newt's hand around his arm curiously.

"Just.. Be careful today, Tommy," Newt whispered. Thomas raised his gaze and their eyes locked.

Thomas smiled at him. "I will be."

Newt let his arm go and his fingers brushed Thomas's skin a bit too longer than necessary. Then Thomas was walking towards the door again, leaving Newt standing in the middle of the room, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **This week I've been thinking quite a lot about future. The future of my own as well as the future of this fic. And I must say, things are starting to work out in both cases. The plotline is taking shape brilliantly, finally! Here's chapter 6 for you, I wish you keep enjoying it! A bit of action ahead!

* * *

><p><em>I'm out of touch, I'm out of love<br>I'll pick you up when you're getting down _

Newt spent most of his day working on the Fields. There were always weeds to get rid of, water to carry for the plants and many other things to take care of. Newt had always found the physical work immensely satisfying. He liked working with his hands and tending plants felt natural to him in some way. The fact that the Gladers produced most of their food by themselves made Newt feel proud of all of them. Organization and order helped him feel like they could have at least some sense and stability in their otherwise restricted and outright crazy lives.

In the late afternoon the grumbling of his stomach and the delicious smells drifting from the kitchen lead Newt finally to take a break from work and head off for dinner. As he passed the Homestead, he couldn't help but sneak glances at the group of Builders bustling around the construction. He spotted Thomas amongst them, his shirt sticking to his sweaty skin as he carried heavy-looking branches beside the wall of the building they were currently working on to repair.

Newt didn't dare to stop by and interrupt their work. He didn't exactly have the energy to confront Gally and the others with an empty stomach. And the Greenie seemed to manage just fine. As fine as one could with the Builders, anyway.

There was peaceful enough in the kitchen as Newt stepped over the threshold. He stopped by the counter and filled his plate with mashed potatoes, steak and beans. He walked over to his favourite corner and sat down, starting to eat his dinner by himself.

This time no one came to interrupt his meal time. Usually Newt enjoyed the company of the other Gladers but today he just didn't think he would make such a great company to anyone. He snatched the last of his meal to his mouth and found his eyes descending on Frypan who was doing the dishes while whistling some odd melody. As he rose from the table, he decided to take care of another one of his responsibilities as he was already there.

Newt went around the counter and leaned on the wall behind Frypan who was still whistling by himself, totally oblivious to the fact he had got company.

"Cheers, Frypan," Newt greeted the boy before him.

A heavy, soapy pan slipped from the cook's hands and hit the ground with a clatter as the boy visibly jumped and whirled around, gasping for air, his eyes widened.

"Shuck it, Newt! What the hell do you think you're doing, creeping up on people like that! I almost got a heart attack, for Christ's sake," the visibly irritated boy spluttered as he wiped his hands to his apron.

Newt snickered and crouched down to raise the pan from the ground, offering it to the cook. Frypan snatched it from his hands, still scowling at Newt. He turned the pan around in his hands, searching for damage.

"You're lucky it's still intact. It would've been all your fault if we had had to live without my fried steaks before the shucking Creators felt willing to send us a new pan," Frypan grumbled, putting his precious tool carefully back to the sink.

"Sorry, mate. Should've figured how much you care for your dear pans," Newt chuckled, amused.

Frypan snorted derisively. "Whatever. Did you have something to say to me or were you just amusing yourself by scaring the shuck out of poor, oblivious people?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

Newt nodded in acknowledgement. "Actually, yes, I did have something to ask you about." As Frypan gestured with his hand for Newt to continue, the blonde-haired boy shifted slightly before opening his mouth again.

"Well, as we know, our Greenie, Tommy, spent the previous day with you. And as I'm one of the people keeping up with his dealings in the Glade, I'd just like to know how Tommy did here. Would he make a better cook than you?" Newt smirked at his last statement and watched as Frypan snorted again, clearly amused.

"Thomas's one great kid. Works hard, tries harder, has one brilliant sense of humor. Gives hell of a nice company," Frypan chuckled to himself, shaking his head slightly. "Still, too restless for the kitchen. I fear he might actually become claustrophobic here, staying in one room for most of the day. That Greenie needs grander schemes. He's got pretty clever mind in that head of his. Not enough patience to cook some delicious minestrone, though," Frypan licked his lips at the mere thought of the soup, breathing in through his nose as if being able to smell it in the air.

Newt listened closely, his mind eagerly collecting any new information and insight possible considering the dark-haired Greenie. He wasn't fully aware of the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth but instead kept gazing pensively out of the window that gave a view over the Homestead as Frypan started babbling about the finesse of soul it took to be able to distinguish just the right amount of spices and how few people actually ever had the patience to master that particular skill. Eventually Newt snapped out of his daze and turned his attention back to the cook before him.

"So, from what I can gather, you can keep your pans all to yourself," Newt summarized, turning his head to the side.

Frypan was nodding along. "I guess you're right. I'd sure keep that shank around if only I didn't see he's clearly meant for something bigger. Not many Greenies I've dealt with have-"

Frypan's words were cut off by loud shouts and cracks erupting outside. Both boys frowned, confused. Newt's gaze snapped back to the window and he felt his eyes widen as he took few shaking steps to grip the frame of the window, staring out in disbelief.

The group of Builders had formed a circle beside the Homestead, cheering and sneering loudly. In the center of the group two boys were engaged in a fierce combat, kicking, hitting and wrestling the hell out of each other. Newt couldn't make out the actual fighters as the Builders around them kept moving as well. Suddenly one of the boys stepped aside and made a clear view for Newt to observe the situation. As it became clear just who were out there dueling, Newt felt all color drain from his face as shock shivered all over his body, his limbs starting to feel numb.

"Tommy.." a whisper filled with terror slipped past his lips. Suddenly his sight became crystal clear and blood rushed through his veins as he finally registered what his eyes were seeing.

In a second Newt whirled around on his heels and strode out of the kitchen, knocking several Gladers to the ground in his pace but not stopping for a moment. As soon as he was out of the door, his eyes were glued to the spot where the group of Builders, and already even more other Gladers, were being gathered. There was only one thought in his head that kept screaming at him to hurry up, one voice that repeated the Greenie's name in his head all over again..

His legs didn't slow down until he'd pushed through the circle of boys around Thomas and Ben.

"STOP! What the bloody fuck do you shuckheads think you're doing?!" the shout was so loud it hurt Newt's throat but he couldn't have cared less. As the boys didn't even seem to realize someone else had spoken, Newt growled and dove straight into the melee, pushing Ben off of Thomas, catching the boy off guard and sending him sprawled to the ground, dumbfounded, but only for a second.

"Stop it right now, both of you! I won't tolerate any-" Newt shouted, standing between the two of the boys, his hands in tight fists, veins popping out of the skin of his arms and blood rushing through his body, until Ben effortlessly jumped up again and smacked Newt straight to his face so fast he had no time to react.

Newt lost his footing and fell to the ground as a sharp, throbbing pain spread over his left cheek. His arms grazed the little rocks under him and he stared at Ben with a murderous gaze as the blonde, broad-shouldered boy hovered over him, sneering with a wildness in his eyes that sent shivers of cool horror down Newt's spine. Something was definitely off with that gaze.

As Ben was about to open his mouth to retort one thing or another, Thomas suddenly rose from the ground, his shirt ruined, bleeding and panting hard, interrupting him with a trembling shout, "Don't you dare touch him! Don't you dare-" And he kicked Ben behind the knee, making the boy howl in pain, and attacked him again with his fists.

Newt couldn't quite believe that this was really happening – or on second thoughts, he really shouldn't be surprised, it was Thomas and Ben after all – but this was really getting out of hand. Badly.

Newt started to rise from the ground and as he prepared himself to interfere again, he was a bit startled when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. Frypan nodded him with a severe expression on his face, a few other Gladers along with him. Two sturdy boys stepped forward, seizing Ben's arms and starting to tore him away at the same time as Frypan and Newt took hold of Thomas. Newt felt Thomas's biceps flexing rapidly under his grip as the boy growled and resisted all he could as Newt and Frypan desperately tried to hold him back. In the end they got the two enraged boys away from each other, shouting at them to calm themselves down.

"Slim it, Tommy! You aren't a bloody kid anymore, so don't act like one," Newt hissed to Thomas's ear, slipping his hand around Thomas's waist, holding him close as the other boy still kept trying to charge forward, his muscles quivering.

That seemed to froze Thomas and made him realise who exactly was holding him in place. He glanced at his left side where Frypan simply kept his strong hand around his bicep and turned his gaze slowly to Newt who was holding him peculiarly close. Thomas noted the red bruising on Newt's cheekbone which stood clearly out of his pale skin. Thomas's eyes darkened again and his muscles tensed under Newt's hold as if he was about to try and free himself again to finish the fight.

"What's the meaning of this?" came a low, dangerous voice behind the group of Gladers.

Newt turned his head to the side and looked as Alby made his way to the clearing. Alby looked angry, his tight fists on his sides, his body pulsing with thinly veiled irritation.

"Newt? What's going on here?" Alby pierced Newt with his gaze, gesturing around him, narrowing his eyes at the sight of bloody, heavily panting Ben and Thomas who were still being held back.

Newt cleared his throat, looking Alby in the eyes as he answered. "Ben and Tommy here decided it was convenient to start a nasty little fight. The shanks were punching the bloody hell out of each other by the time I got here," he explained, disappointment dripping clearly from his voice.

Alby raised his eyebrows, clearly irritated now. "And why exactly were they fighting?" he demanded.

There was no answer. Ben raised his gaze at Thomas and sneered at him, and Thomas tried once again to pull himself free but Frypan and Newt's hold of him was strong enough to keep him in place.

"No answer? Well then. Don't you think I'm just gonna forget about this. You both know our rules. 'Do not hurt another Glader.' You've both ignored that very simple rule and you're just not getting away with it." Alby looked over at the boys, glaring at them. "Slammer, two days, both of you. Separately. Starting with Ben." There was no arguing against Alby's tone. "Med-jacks! Get those shanks checked and right after send Ben to his punishment. Everyone else, go back to whatever the hell you were doing. The show's over."

As Newt looked, Alby nodded to him. Suddenly he felt Thomas swaying on his feet a bit, stumbling a step back. Newt immediately tightened his hold on him, his forehead wrinkling with worry.

"Tommy, are you ok? Tommy?" Newt asked urgently, turning to look at Thomas's face.

Thomas's eyes were nearly closed, sweat sticking to his forehead, a look of pain flashing over his face. "I'm.. I don't feel too good," Thomas mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Newt felt his heart beat rapidly against his ribs. "Fry, let's get him to lie down. Fast," he said, slipping Thomas's right arm around his shoulders.

Together they started to haul almost unconscious Thomas inside the Homestead, a Med-jack walking right behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** You'll get this chapter pretty soon since I'll be quite busy next week and it'll probably be weekend again before I'm able to update. About this chapter, there were some parts that kept bugging me and I'm still not completely satisfied with all of them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Lots of hurt/comfort here!

* * *

><p><em>I know you get me<em>

_So I let my walls come down, down_

Newt and Frypan eased Thomas carefully to a sitting position on the bed in the spare room upstairs. Thomas wailed slightly as he tried to stay up, his face looked ashen and he was holding his stomach with his other hand. Newt kept his arm around Thomas, helping him sit straight, touching his hand to Thomas's forehead. It was covered in sweat.

"Here," the Med-jack, Jeff, said and handed him a bowl. Newt accepted it, but suddenly it was snatched from his hands by Thomas as the boy pushed him off of him. A flash of confusion and hurt flashed in Newt's face until Thomas buried his head to the bowl, throwing up violently.

Thomas spat to the bowl and swept his hand over his mouth before putting the bowl to the floor and laying slowly down to the bed, clearly in a lot of pain.

"What's wrong with him?" a small, slightly trembling voice slipped past Newt's lips, worry etched on his face.

As Newt was about to step closer again, Jeff stopped him by stepping between him and the bed, placing his Med-jack's bag to the bedside table. Newt frowned but stayed back as Jeff got to his work, starting to run some basic tests on Thomas.

Newt gnawed his fingernails in an anxious manner as he stared impatiently at Jeff who carefully touched his hands all over Thomas's head, examining it for injuries and ignoring the boy's mild protestations while he listened to Thomas's breathing and checked his eyes with a small flashlight. Finally Jeff straightened up and turned to Newt and Frypan.

"It's just a mild concussion, I suppose. Luckily it's nothing too severe. I still need to take a look at his other injuries, though." The Med-jack glanced warily at the dark-haired boy's scruffy appearance. "The shank got beaten up pretty badly. I could use some help-"

"I'll stay," Newt answered immediately, startling the others a bit by his sudden declaration.

Jeff nodded slowly and turned to his bag, starting to fiddle with some of his equipment. Frypan raised his eyebrows a bit but nodded as well, clapping Newt to the back. "See that our Greenie gets up and runnin' about again," he said with a small smile on his lips, glancing at the restlessly stirring Thomas who was mumbling incoherently to himself on the bed.

Newt looked as Frypan backed away, closing the door behind him. Then he shook his head and finally stepped next to the bed again, settling his anxious eyes on Thomas. The boy on the bed looked very ill.

"Okay, we gotta get his clothes off. They are more or less bloody and we need to clean his wounds and check that he hasn't any broken bones," Jeff explained, all professional. Newt swallowed hard and felt blood rushing under the skin of his cheeks but nodded curtly. They had to make sure Tommy was gonna be okay.

Jeff helped Thomas to rise to a sitting position again as Newt started to ease the shirt off of the boy. He slid his hands lightly over the other boy's stomach, raising the shirt with the movement. As it revealed the bare skin underneath, Newt felt the breath hitch in his chest as his eyes settled on the sight before him and his hands froze against Thomas's chest.

The beautiful, slightly tanned, smooth skin was covered by angry bruises all over Thomas's abdomen. Jeff moved his head to take a look as well and grimaced. Thomas had his eyes closed tightly shut and he leaned heavily against Jeff who was holding him in place, not saying a word. Newt swallowed again and finally snapped out of the mixture of feelings rushing through his body_. _In his mind he swore he would make Ben pay for what he had done.

"Hey, Tommy, would you raise your hands a bit, yeah- just like that," Newt murmured to the boy softly, removing the shirt off of him slowly, finally sweeping it over his head and letting it fall to the floor.

They checked the boy's back but there seemed to be no other injuries besides more bruising. As they were about to start stripping off Thomas's trousers, the boy suddenly growled and the two boys stopped, glancing at him in worry.

"Tommy, what is it?" Newt asked urgently, looking all over Thomas's face as the boy opened his eyes but avoided their gaze.

"I'm- I'm fine guys, just let me sleep. I feel stupid enough as it is," the boy murmured, a flash of red appearing on his cheeks. Jeff snickered, amused.

"Sorry mate, in case you haven't noticed, your leg is bleeding and we really should get that cleaned up," Jeff grinned at the boy and he settled Thomas on his back, asking for Newt to get the disinfectants ready as he quickly stripped Thomas off of his trousers, letting the boy only keep his underwear. Newt felt a flash of jealousy flare through his insides at Jeff's actions. _What bloody right has he to boss me around and – and take Tommy's pants off? _Suddenly aware of his thoughts again, Newt shivered and snatched the bottle of disinfectant and some cotton pads.

"If I wasn't about to black out at any second, I'd.." Thomas mumbled under his breath, throwing his arm over his eyes, mortified.

Newt stepped back beside the bed, desperately trying to keep his eyes from travelling all around the exposed skin before him. As his eyes caught the long slash along Thomas's thigh, his confusing mind was filled with the mix of worry and anger again. Jeff tried to take the disinfectant from his hands but he held them back.

"I can bloody well clean one simple wound, you bloody shank," Newt growled, irritated. Jeff held his hands up, shrugged and stepped away.

Newt sat beside Thomas on the bed. He opened the bottle and moistened the cotton with the liquid and started to pat it gently against the wound on Thomas's leg. As the bitter liquid touched the skin, there was a sharp hiss of pain at the other end of the bed as Thomas jumped slightly. Newt glanced at him quickly but continued cleaning the wound and Thomas let him.

Jeff came over and silently handed him a small tube of some kind of healing salve and a large bandage to put over the wound. Newt spread some salve around the cleaned wound and placed the bandage over it.

Without permission Newt moved ahead, shuffling closer to Thomas's upper body, starting to treat the few smaller cuts on his arms and chest with the same care. He was so focused on his work he was barely aware of the world around him. There was just he and Thomas in the room for all he knew. He didn't notice the Med-jack's widened eyes as the boy kept staring at the two of them.

Thomas had lowered his arm from his face at some point and let Newt get it cleaned up as well. Newt didn't notice the wondering, warm way Thomas's eyes were resting on him as he worked on his wounds dutifully. Eventually, Newt raised his head to look at Thomas's face and was taken aback by the expression he found there. Thomas's hazel brown eyes were heavy with fatigue and pain but there was a whole variety of emotions to be found there. Newt took a shuddering intake of breath and shuffled even closer, cupping Thomas's jaw carefully with his hand.

Newt tore his eyes away from those burning, beautiful eyes and settled on patting the small cuts along Thomas's jaw and cheeks. Thomas kept his eyes on him the whole time, only slightly grimacing anymore as the disinfectant bit his sensitive skin.

The cotton pad was soon covered in blood and Newt turned his gaze away from Thomas's face, just about to snatch a clean disinfectant pad from the table when he felt the tiniest brush of fingers on his injured cheek. He turned his head back quickly, staring at Thomas who was looking at his bruised skin with a troubled wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"You should get this cleaned up as well," Thomas murmured softly, sweeping his fingers gently over his cheek again.

Newt's heart pounded hard in his chest and his skin tingled under Thomas's touch. Suppressing the urge to close his eyes and sigh in pleasure, Newt smiled softly instead.

"It's nothing, Tommy. Just a scratch. I'm okay," he said, taking Thomas's hand in his own and lowering it slowly back to the boy's lap.

"I'm alright as well, Newt. You don't have to worry about me," Thomas argued quietly, sweeping his thumb over Newt's fingers.

Newt swallowed hard and his eyes locked with Thomas's, holding his gaze for long minutes. During that look, something shifted between the two of them. Newt could feel it in the way a shiver ran down his spine and he watched as Thomas's gaze lowered slowly to his lips.

Suddenly someone cleared their throat behind them. Newt whirled his head around, blinking as he realized Jeff was still standing there. He pulled his hand away and sat up straight again as he felt a blush settling over his face. Still, he couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed. He had simply been taking care of Tommy.

Jeff stepped closer and Newt noticed he was holding a cup full of water and some pill.

"Here, Thomas, take this. I guess your stomach has settled enough already so you can at least try to ingest something to relieve your pain," he gave the glass and the medicine to Thomas who was propped up slightly with Newt's help. The dark-haired boy swallowed the medicine gratefully and settled back to the bed, sighing.

"You may get some sleep now. Because of your concussion, though, you must be watched over for at least a day from now and you can't be allowed to sleep more than a few hours straight. Someone has to wake you up regularly to see how you're doing and note if there's any change in your demeanor," Jeff paused for a bit, looking at Newt pointedly. "I'm gonna go check on how Clint and others are doing with Ben. I guess you can keep an eye on Thomas for the night, then?" Jeff raised his eyebrows slightly in question even though a smile tried to tug at his lips.

"Sure," Newt assured, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Jeff nodded to him, turning around to leave. "Just let me know immediately if there's any kind of change on his condition." He closed the door behind him.

Newt blinked after him a couple of times, his brain trying to catch up with the situation at hand. He turned his gaze back to Thomas and noted the boy had silently fallen asleep. His chest was rising and falling regularly as he breathed slowly in and out. All the lines of pain had cleared out of his face and there was only the look of peace and vulnerability that made something twist painfully somewhere near Newt's heart.

Slowly Newt rose from the bed, trying not to wake the other boy up. There was no reason to worry, though, since the boy seemed to be fast asleep.

Newt covered Thomas's treated body with a soft blanket and tucked the boy in, unable to stop himself from sweeping his lips lightly over Thomas's forehead before settling to sit on a chair beside the bed. He kept his eyes on the sleeping, extraordinary boy, emotions and thoughts swirling through his confused mind. Still, at the same time, Newt felt a peculiar peace settle over him, in a way he hadn't felt for a very long time.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Wow just wow. Thank you so much for the amazing feedback! I'm really overwhelmed by how much you guys seem to love my story! It makes me the happiest to know I can make you happy with my words.

As I predicted earlier, I was really busy for the whole week but as promised, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>When you sleep, will it be with me?<em>

_When you sleep, will it be with me?_

The small pocket watch Newt had found from the Med-jack's bag ticked loudly in the otherwise silent room. The blonde-haired boy was holding it inside his fist, keeping his eyes on the boy before him. The Homestead around him was quiet as most of the boys had already gone to sleep.

Thomas had been sleeping for about two hours and Newt had been watching him the whole time. As fascinating as the boy was, the passive sitting still and the lack of sleep from days before slowly started to get the better of him. Newt's racing thoughts had slowed down to a sluggish stream, the edges of his mind softening and blurring.

His arm eased itself to rest on the surface of the bedside table, pillowing his head on top of it. As his eyelids started to feel irresistibly heavy, he could feel his thoughts starting to drift away, leaving him feel so, so blissfully light.

*.*.*

Newt shivered as he felt a hand caressing his bare back, fingers dancing up and down on his spine in a languid, calming manner. He rested his head on his crossed arms, breathing in and out, feeling so calm and _safe_, hoping it would never end feeling like this.

He opened his dark brown eyes slowly, his gaze immediately descending on the pair of hazel brown, warm eyes gazing at him mere inches away. Thomas was resting on his side, facing Newt, his head propped against his palm as his elbow leaned against the mattress. The sheets of the bed were haphazardly spread to cover the lower parts of their bodies, the sheet resting low on Thomas's hip and revealing his flat, muscled stomach and chest.

As their eyes locked, a slow smile started to spread on Thomas's face, the warmness of his eyes intensifying. He swept his fingers over Newt's spine to twine in the blonde locks of hair, caressing his scalp gently. Newt breathed softly, his eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure Thomas's gentle touch ignited.

"I love seeing you like this," Thomas murmured softly. Newt blinked his eyes open again, staring at the dark-haired boy in wonder. "So relaxed, so open, so soft. Beautiful. You look like you don't have a worry in the world," Thomas continued, smiling his wonderful smile at Newt.

"But it's true," Newt answered, scooting closer on the bed, lifting his hand to curl around the nape of Thomas's neck. "When I'm with you, I'm safe. I'm happy. I can forget the rest of the world around me. _You _are my world."

Thomas's smile widened against Newt's lips as the blonde-haired boy pulled him to a kiss. Their lips moved gently, softly together. There was no heat in their kiss this time, it wasn't rushed by passion but instead it was slow, beautiful and meaningful in a whole different way.

After a while, Thomas pulled back slightly, whispering few words so quietly Newt couldn't make them out. As he leaned forward to catch Thomas's mouth again, the boy resisted, repeating the words, louder this time.

"Wake up," Thomas whispered, looking at him with a sliver of sadness in his eyes Newt couldn't quite understand.

"What?" Newt asked, his brow furrowed with confusion as he looked at Thomas.

"Wake up," Thomas repeated, sweeping his hand through Newt's hair and looking over his features as if trying to memorize them. "Darling, wake up."

Newt opened his mouth to speak again, but then he started to feel oddly light-headed and the room, the bed and Thomas seemed to drift away. His sight became blurred and he couldn't hear his own voice anymore as he called out for Thomas, but it was all in vain as his world was spinning, spinning,...

*.*.*

Newt woke up with a start, cracking his neck painfully as he straightened up in seconds. He blinked the exhaustion from his eyes rapidly as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The spare room of the Homestead was silent, the boy on the bed still sleeping peacefully. Newt let out a long, relieved breath and willed his heart to stop pounding so hard.

As his gaze fell upon the clock, his face paled. How in hell had he fallen asleep for four bloody hours? Thomas would soon have slept almost seven hours without anyone checking him out. Newt cursed himself inside his head as a sick feeling started to churn in his stomach. _How can I be so stupid?_

Newt fell quickly to his knees beside the bed, curling his hand against Thomas shoulder, shaking the boy gently.

"Thomas? Tommy? Wake up, hey, wake up," Newt whispered urgently, worry lacing his tone. He touched Thomas's cool forehead with his other hand, moving his hand to palm the side of his face.

"Hey, Tommy, come on," Newt urged him as the boy didn't show any signs of waking up immediately. Newt's breathing quickened and he felt cold fear sweep down his spine.

Suddenly Thomas's breathing changed and he started to stir. Newt froze and watched with wide eyes as Thomas's eyes moved slightly under his eyelids and soon he started to blink them open.

As Thomas's exhausted, unfocused eyes finally found Newt's, Newt let out a huge breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. A smile spread over his face as he murmured, "Tommy."

Thomas was gazing at him, slowly waking up to this world. The boy frowned and as he finally opened his mouth, his voice came out so hoarse Newt could barely make out the words. "Newt?" he croaked. "What- what's going on?"

Newt suddenly became aware of the way his hand was cupping Thomas's cheek and he pulled it away reluctantly. He rose to pour a glass of water for Thomas and handed it to the boy who took it gratefully, propping up on his elbows and drinking the water in just a few gulps. Newt settled the glass back to the table, facing Thomas again. Then all his worry and anxiety erupted in a rush.

"Tommy, how are you doing? Are you in pain? Do you want another pain killer? How does- how does your head feel? Can you think straight? Can you-" Newt spluttered the questions out of his mouth but was cut off as he felt Thomas's fingers curl around his own. His mouth hanging slightly open, he gazed at their joined hands in wonder.

"Newt, stop worrying. I feel just.. fine. Head hurts like hell, though," Thomas said, rubbing his forehead with his other hand, grimacing slightly. "I guess I could use another pain killer, but otherwise, I'm alright."

Newt nodded, poured him another glass of water and handed him a pill from the Med-jack's bag. He waited as the other boy accepted the drink and the medicine, desperately trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Thomas was still holding his hand.

"I guess it doesn't make sense for me to ask you simple questions like, what's your birthday or what year it is since none of us here knows the answers, either," Newt mumbled, receiving an amused chuckle from Thomas. "I don't even have a clue to what the bloody hell to actually ask you, to be honest," Newt revealed, flustered.

Thomas looked at him for a while, then yawned. "Well, let's see. I remember my name. I remember yours. I remember waking up in this place called the Box two weeks ago, arriving to this place called the Glade, meeting all you shanks, getting to know you, working, working,.. oh yes, and yesterday I kicked that slinthead's ass," Thomas listed, grinning triumphantly.

Newt felt a smile tugging at his lips and he shook his head, amused. "Nothing wrong with your memory, then. Your humour seems to be back, as well," he noted but then grew serious again, narrowing his eyes at the boy. "But seriously, Tommy, what the hell were you thinking yesterday? What was that stupid fight about? You know that shank's not worth it. I thought you knew better than that," he said, an ounce of disappointment in his voice.

Thomas avoided his gaze suddenly, pouting his lips a bit before answering, "Listen, I don't wanna talk about it. Not right now, anyway." The dark-haired boy yawned again, his eyes looking heavy.

Newt sighed and gave up for now. The boy needed his rest. "Alright, Tommy. We'll talk about this later, then," Newt declared and finally pulled his hand away from Thomas's, sitting back on his chair. His hand felt cold without the heat of another palm. Empty, too, in more ways than one. "Go back to sleep, now, sleepyhead," he added, a tiny tremble on his voice.

Thomas's eyes had closed during Newt's words and his breathing had started to grow deeper as well. As Newt had slipped his hand away, Thomas's brow had furrowed and for a moment he looked so lost Newt wanted to take hold of his hand again, but in the end he decided against it, swallowing hard. Thomas was already asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Christmas is getting closer, yay! I'm very excited and looking forward to the holidays already. I have so much stuff to take care of before that, though, but I won't forget about you! Here's chapter 9. This is one of the chapters that makes me very anxious about your response.. Anyway, here we go! *takes a deep breath*

* * *

><p><em>You don't want to hurt me,<em>

_But see how deep the bullet lies_

Few hours later Newt woke Thomas up again. This time the dark-haired boy's response to being forced to cut short his sleep was far more irritated. There was some exhausted bickering between the two boys as the other one tried to assure there was nothing wrong with him while the other refused to let the younger boy sleep again until he had made Newt somewhat convinced.

The morning light fought its way to the small room through the window. Newt blinked his exhausted eyes open as he heard the familiar sounds of the Glade waking up and starting a new day. He had been more or less dozing off again after waking Thomas up for the second time. He hadn't let himself fall asleep deeper this time, though.

Newt rose from his chair and stretched his arms over his head, yawning. He took a few steps to stand in front of the window. The Gladers were making their way to breakfast and others were already starting their work of the day. Newt spotted a group of Runners near the Map room, ready to head for the Maze soon. He also saw Chuck walking towards the kitchen, his head hanging low, his stance defeated. Newt found himself wondering what had gotten the young boy so upset and if the beaten Greenie currently snoring softly on the bed had anything to do with it. Thomas had grown quite close with the chubby kid over the last two weeks, Newt had observed.

The loud, screeching and familiar sound of the walls of the Glade opening pierced Newt's ears as his eyes observed the event behind the window. Suddenly he heard a loud gasp and the sound of bed sheets rustling as the boy on the bed was woken up by the sounds drifting from outside. Newt turned around and found Thomas leaning on the bed with his elbows that tried to hold his upper body up. He looked ready to rush out of the bed at any moment until his wild eyes settled upon Newt and he relaxed visibly, seeming to finally realize where he was.

"Good morning," Newt said with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his back to the wall next to the window.

"Morning," Thomas mumbled, sweeping his hand over his face and scratching the back of his head, frowning at the slight pain.

"How are you doing?" Newt asked, stepping closer automatically.

Thomas rolled his eyes, trying to sit up but then stopped as he started swaying, growled and squeezed his eyes shut. Newt rushed to put his hands on Thomas's shoulders, placing him back on the bed carefully.

"Tommy?" Newt whispered, worried. The dark-haired boy slowly opened his eyes again, squeezing his forehead with his fingers.

"I was feeling fine but then all of a sudden the room just started to spin," Thomas explained, avoiding his gaze.

Newt straightened up and started to sort through the bag on the table. "Well, Tommy, I'm no Med-jack, but I guess eating some food will help you feel better. You haven't felt sick in hours so I guess you can handle these for starters," he reasoned, snatching a few granola bars from the bag, handing them to Thomas.

The dark-haired boy took them eagerly and started to tore open the wrapping, taking a huge bite of the bar in seconds.

"Thanks," Thomas murmured, his mouth full.

Newt snorted at the boy's eagerness, amused, earning a glare from Thomas.

"Anyway, I suppose I should get Jeff to take a look at you and decide what to do with you next," Newt said and glanced at Thomas's bare chest, swallowing. "I should probably find you something to wear, as well."

Thomas eyed him, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, good that."

Newt nodded, starting to back away towards the door. "I'll go grab something for you from my room and find Jeff. You be a good Greenie and stay right there, okay?" Without waiting for a response, Newt stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

*.*.*

Newt closed the door of his room, leaning against it. He let out a deep, shuddering exhale. He had no idea what had been going on between him and Thomas last night but there was no denying something was definitely happening. Newt swept a hand over his tired face, willing his beating heart to calm down.

Finally he stepped away from the door and made his way toward his small wardrobe in the corner. Newt opened the top drawer and pulled out a long-sleeved, pale gray shirt. Then he opened the second one and eyed his pants collection laying there in neat piles. Newt had a pretty slim waist himself so he wondered if any of his trousers would fit Thomas. He had to swallow hard as he remembered how it felt to hold those strong, muscled hips under his hands. After a moment of indecision, he grabbed the largest trousers he could find, deciding they'd have to do. For a moment he hesitated, looking at the pairs of clean boxers, but snatched one of them as well.

As Newt pushed both of the drawers shut on the same movement, he heard the door to his room open. He turned back to face the room and was taken aback by the sight of Alby, standing at his door and closing it shut behind him.

"Alby?" Newt asked, surprised, wondering if something had happened. "What's going on?"

Alby exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "I just threw Ben to the Slammer after trying to find out what happened yesterday. Such a waste of time. The things he said.. I don't know whether to believe half the things coming out of his mouth. He really hasn't been himself after.. what happened to him," Alby sighed. He raised his gaze to fall upon Newt and a frown appeared on his face.

"Have you been up all night again? You look even more tired than yesterday." Alby started to step closer, his eyes falling to the heap of clothes Newt held in his hands. The dark-skinned boy stopped suddenly, something shifting in his eyes as the boy looked at Newt's face again. "Don't tell me you've been staying with the Greenie the whole night? _You _were the one who Jeff said was taking care of him," Alby realised, his tone turning accusing.

Newt frowned, utterly taken aback by Alby's words. "Um, yeah, I did look after him. Of course I did. He has a concussion and someone had to watch over him," he explained, irritation starting to tug at the edges of his mind. "Is there a problem, Alby?"

Alby's eyes turned dark in a way Newt had never experienced before, not when his eyes were focused on him. Alby took another step closer, only few feet separating them now. There was a strange stench drifting from Alby, one that Newt didn't immediately recognise. Newt felt coldness sweep down his spine again, making him shiver slightly.

"Yes, Newt, there is a problem. What the hell is going on with you?" Alby demanded, his tone turning dark, poisonous. "You barely see me these days, you flinch when I barely lay a finger in your direction, you avoid me in every situation possible. But you have no problem with Thomas, the bloody saint. You keep looking after him, touching him, looking at him as if he's a bloody saviour of the world," Alby spat, gripping Newt's shoulders, pushing him hard against the drawers.

Newt gasped, his eyes widening. The edge of the drawer bit painfully into his back. As the boy pushed himself closer, Newt realised he stank strongly of alcohol. "Alby! What the hell-" he shouted, but was cut off as Alby suddenly lifted him on top of the drawer, pushing against him and freezing Newt, the clothes stumbling to the floor from his hands.

Alby held him tightly, squeezing his arms with such force that made Newt's eyes water. The dark-skinned boy ignored the trembling boy in his arms as he sneered, "You know how I recognize your way of looking at him? It's because you used to look me the same way." Newt stared at him, utterly speechless. Alby growled and attacked Newt's lips that were slightly parted from shock.

Newt's brain shut down for a moment. He couldn't believe the situation he found himself in. Was Alby – the kind, loving, caring Alby – trying to- _No!_

In a flash Newt became aware again of the way Alby's tongue was assaulting his mouth and the way his hips ground against him. He tore his mouth away from Alby's attack and pushed the older boy hard to the chest with his other hand. The boy hardly flinched and gripped his hair again, tightly.

"Alby, stop this! You're hurting me-" Newt tried to plead, desperation and hurt and anger mixing on his voice but Alby claimed his mouth again, unrelentingly.

Suddenly Newt's ears registered the sound of a door opening on the opposite side of the room. He turned his head slightly to stare at the intruder and as he realised just who exactly it was standing there, Newt felt coldness and fear swallow him completely.

"Newt? I-" Thomas, clothed in his old and bloody rags, started as his gaze swept over the room but was immediately cut off as his eyes descended on the two boys at the other side of the room. Thomas's eyes widened and he stumbled a step back, looking as if he'd just been punched in the face. His lips thinned into a grim line, a cold detachment and hurt mixing in his eyes, and he stumbled out of the room as fast as he had burst in just a moment ago.

Newt felt his insides turn cold all over. He could only imagine what the situation must've seemed like for Thomas. Newt was basically draped all over Alby from Thomas's point of view. Newt's hands against Alby's chest, his legs on both sides of the other boy's waist, Alby hovering over him and kissing him hard. He felt some strength flow through his limbs as an irresistible urge to run after the dark-haired Greenie overwhelmed him. Newt snapped out of his momentary shock and he bit down Alby's lips, hard, and finally managed to tore his mouth free again.

"Thomas, wait!" Newt shouted, desperation clear on his voice as he planted his hand against Alby's chest, once again trying to push free. All of it was in vain though, since the door slammed tightly shut after Thomas. It was too late.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Early update again because I love you. Chapter 10 is up! Hearing your thoughts still make the happiest, so please keep reviews coming! Enjoy! x

* * *

><p><em>Anywhere I would've followed you<em>

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_

As Newt's shout echoed through the room, Alby seemed to suddenly freeze against him. He stared at Newt, his eyes narrowed with disbelief as a small trail of blood appeared on his lower lip. Newt realised his chance and pushed Alby off of him with all his force, pulling his knees up to thrust them against the boy's stomach.

Alby grunted loudly, stumbling backwards and releasing his grasp on Newt. The blonde-haired boy slid back to the floor, his breath shuddering in his chest, shock and fear mixing inside him. Newt started to make his way quickly towards the door but stopped short as Alby's words cut through him.

"There you go again, running after your precious boyfriend. You do realise you're proving me exactly right with everything you're doing right now?" Alby sneered, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at Newt with such contempt he felt it slice across his heart. "Go ahead, go begging and kneeling before your Greenie and try to explain to him how you're playing with two boys at the same time. That's pretty low coming from you, Newt. I didn't realise you'd-"

Something snapped inside Newt, as if someone had lit up a lighter and dropped it into a puddle of gasoline. "SHUT THE BLOODY FUCK UP, ALBY!" the words burst out of Newt's mouth and he was suddenly standing right before Alby, his eyes wide and full of hurt and anger. "You have no bloody clue as to what you're talking about! I'm not playing with a bloody soul here! You have absolutely no right to talk to me like that. Tommy is not my boyfriend nor are you! You, you bloody shuckface, make me feel ashamed I ever had anything to do with you! I can't believe the way you're acting right now!"

Newt's chest was rising and falling rapidly and his fists were tight on his sides. Alby stared at him, his mouth hanging open and wide-eyed, something shifting behind those dark, slightly bloodshot eyes. Newt felt tears stinging in his eyes as his rage slowly started to dissipate. He took a stumbling step back, letting out a shuddering exhale.

"I can't believe that you, Alby, of all people, would do something like that to me. I thought I could trust you," Newt whispered, his voice low with surrender. He started backing away and stopped at the door one more time before closing it behind him. "I guess I was wrong."

*.*.*

Thomas was nowhere to be found in the Homestead. There was barely anyone there anyway since most of the Gladers had already gone outside. Even the Med-jacks had disappeared somewhere. Worry started to eat its way through Newt as he was sure the stubborn Greenie hadn't paid a visit to neither Jeff nor Clint to check his condition.

As Newt made his way out of the building, he swept a hand over his tired face. His world was crumbling down around him but he couldn't give in to the desperation just yet. He just had to find Tommy and everything would be alright again. He had to see him, he had to talk to him, he had to explain.. even though he had no buggin' idea as to what exactly he was going to say to the boy. Things really weren't that simple between them, especially these days.

Newt narrowed his eyes as his gaze descended on a familiar, short boy making his way over the grass, his shoulders slumped. The curly-haired boy seemed to be even more upset than in the morning, raising Newt's suspicions. Newt started to walk briskly towards him.

"Hey, Chuck! Wait up a little!" Newt called, slowing down as he got near the boy who had turned around to face him. Chuck's miserable eyes glanced at him shortly before settling on the ground again.

"Has something happened?" Newt frowned, a sliver of worry for the young boy crossing his features. The boy only shrugged in response, not raising his gaze from his shoes. Newt crouched down slightly, putting his head to the same level as Chuck's.

"Listen, Chuck.. Have you-" Newt had to swallow hard as he tried to get rid of the lump that had settled on his throat. "Have you seen Tommy?"

At that Chuck's head snapped up, his huge, tearful eyes meeting Newt's own. The younger boy's lower lip quivered a little as he whispered, "He doesn't want to see anyone. He- he told me to leave him alone. I-I've been worried about him the whole night and then he just-" Chuck let out a small, choking sound as he waved his hand weakly towards the forest far behind them, blinking furiously and avoiding Newt's gaze again.

Newt put his hand on Chuck's shoulder, squeezing tight. "Hey, Chuck, Tommy isn't angry with you. Whatever he said, he didn't mean it. He's – he's just-" Newt had to pause and close his eyes. "He's not thinking straight, 's all I'm saying. I'm gonna talk to him, don't worry."

Chuck raised his tear-stained face and murmured, "Will Thomas be alright again?"

Newt smiled at him weakly, trying to look as reassuring as possible. "Of course he will. He's one bloody tough Greenie," Newt answered, clapping the boy to the shoulder twice before straightening up. "Cheer up, Chuck."

Chuck watched as Newt stepped past him, starting to make his way toward the forest, his heart pounding restlessly in his chest.

*.*.*

Newt walked through the woods slowly. He kept turning his head from side to side, observing his surroundings the best he could, calling out to Thomas every now and then. The trees stood silently and there were no birds singing or bustling through the foliage. An uneasy feeling kept turning Newt's stomach into tight knots.

"Tommy? Please, come out and talk to me," Newt pleaded again. He stepped over a fallen tree trunk carefully, when suddenly a hard, cold voice came from ahead.

"I don't want to talk to you."

Newt froze, taking in a startled breath. He stared at the large tree slightly to his right. He was sure the voice had come behind it. He swallowed and closed his eyes tightly for a second, mentally bracing himself for the confrontation.

"Tommy, please, just listen to me. I can-" Newt tried but was cut off fast by Thomas who burst out from behind the tree, trembling visibly as he stared at Newt, his eyes full of rage, hurt and accusation.

"Explain? You want to explain?" Thomas growled, taking a step closer. "Of course you do. What if I don't want to listen to your lame lies-"

"Tommy, I would never lie to you!" Newt shouted, desperate. "What you saw – me and Alby – it- it wasn't what you think it was. He's not- We're not-" Newt tried, his words stumbling over each other.

Thomas let out a short, cold laugh that sent shivers of despair through Newt. "Are you saying you haven't been together with Alby this whole time? Because if that's what you were gonna say, I don't believe you. It sure as hell didn't look like you two were just friends back there," Thomas snarled, furious. "I can't believe that for a moment I almost-" Thomas's eyes widened suddenly and he whirled around, starting to storm away from Newt.

Newt gaped after him, his mouth hanging open from shock for a second before he strode after Thomas.

"Tommy, wait! Alby and me-"

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT, OKAY?" Thomas suddenly turned around again, his chest rising and falling from furious breaths. "It's none of my business if you get off by looking after poor little Greenies, pretending like you care and then go laughing behind our backs, thinking how stupid we are while throwing yourself all over-"

Something in the way Newt's face whited completely and the way his eyes turned almost pitch-black, guarded and extremely distant, made Thomas's voice suddenly quiet down and the boy swallowed the rest of his sentence.

"Is that really what you think of me, Greenie?" Newt's voice was suddenly full of ice.

Thomas just stared at him, wide-eyed.

Newt looked him straight in the eyes for a moment, looking at Thomas as if he was a stranger.

"Fuck you, Thomas."

And with that, Newt turned around and walked away.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Wow, your amazing response to chapter 10 totally overwhelmed me! I can't thank you enough, all the wonderful reviews you wrote made me so very happy! You're the best.

Christmas is finally just around the corner! Soon all the rush and hurries will be over and we can just sit down and enjoy our holidays with our loved ones. Here's a little Christmas present for you! I'm afraid this chapter isn't exactly one of the happiest I've ever written, but it's a new chapter after all. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays! x

* * *

><p><em>It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't<br>It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed_

Newt stumbled his way through the thick bushes and knee-length grass as he wandered off the path in the forest, tears in his eyes blurring his sight. Sharp branches kept cutting the skin of his face and arms as he pushed through the shrubbery, breathing in uneven gasps, his heart pounding painfully, unevenly in his chest.

His ears kept listening to every possible sound of approach behind him, hoping with a false hope that the dark-haired boy would come after him. At the same time he could feel desperation, hurt and grief eating their way through his heart, knowing full well no one would follow him.

_He hates you, he hates you, he hates you.._

_What the hell were you even thinking?_

_How could you possibly be so bloody stupid as to even believe for a second he could feel something for you?_

_He can't even stand looking at you anymore._

_You're nothing, nothing, nothing.._

_They were just dreams. Just dreams._

_None of it was real._

Newt's foot suddenly got stuck under a thick root sticking out of the ground. He fell hard to the ground, yelping in surprise and then growling in pain. A sharp ache sliced through his left shoulder as it hit the forest floor since he didn't manage to soften the fall in any way. His lungs were out of breath and for a moment his vision went black, white dots dancing behind his eyelids.

As the pain started to slowly subside, Newt rolled gently to his back. He opened his eyes and stared at the trees hovering high over him, coloring the world with all the different shades of brown and green. He tried to draw some air into his lungs again and felt tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

All the fury and anger had drained off of him only to be replaced by overwhelming hurt, grief and misery. He could still feel the all consuming hatred radiating off Thomas's whole being. He could still hear the harsh words, the accusations, the contempt in his voice. Thomas's eyes had been so cold, so accusing.. _How could he say things like that to me? Why wouldn't he listen to me when I tried to explain?_

Newt had to shut his eyes tightly as he felt another fresh wound stinging and starting to bleed inside him. The memories of drunken Alby flooded his mind; his unfocused gaze; his clinging, bruising fingers; his jealous, sneery voice; his forceful, unyielding hold of him.. It all was so unlike Alby and it still felt so bizarre Newt could hardly believe it had happened at all. Yet, there were way too many reminders of all that had happened in the past few hours, the least of them being the stinging bruises in his arms and his sore lips.

"How could you do that to me?" the words slipped past Newt's trembling lips, a whisper of pain and disbelief in the quiet forest around him. Alby's behaviour had scarred Newt deeper than he could've thought possible. After all, the dark-skinned, gentle and fair boy had been his anchor all these years. Alby had been there during Newt's darkest days and helped him get to his feet again. Newt had always been able to trust Alby unconditionally and lean on his steady, strong and warm presence whenever he needed it. Their relationship hadn't been entirely platonic, and they had had their moments, but all the crush Newt had had on Alby at some point over the years had faded long ago. He loved Alby, but he couldn't see a future with him. Alby didn't make his heart jump to his throat, he didn't make him loose sleep for dreaming about him, he didn't make him feel warm and tingly all over whenever their eyes locked. Alby wasn't anything like Thomas was to him.

Since the day Thomas had arrived to the Glade, the dark-haired Greenie had grown to mean more and more to Newt. He had slowly but surely sneaked his way straight to Newt's heart. By now Newt already realised his feelings towards Thomas weren't anything to take lightly. It wasn't just a passing crush or a shallow need. What he felt for Thomas was something way more deeper. Even though the two of them had known each other for barely two weeks, in his heart Newt knew he had never felt this way towards anyone else in his life, past or present, and probably never would. They shared the kind of connection he would be a fool not to acknowledge it.

The fact that both Alby and Thomas hated him and thought Newt was now the kind of person he had always stood strictly against was enough to make Newt's walls crumble down finally and completely. He curled on his side on the dirty forest floor, hugging his knees and burying his face against them as violent sobs started to escape his throat, his whole body trembling. The lack of sleep, all the shocks and the roller-coaster of emotions his mind had been through for the past hours, days to be honest, were starting to overwhelm him for good. Tears streaming down his face, Newt finally succumbed to the black abyss swirling through his mind, body and soul.

*.*.*

"Hey, Newt, wake up."

There was a hand on Newt's shoulder, shaking him slightly. Newt drew in a fast, sharp breath and started to blink his heavy eyelids open. He turned his head slightly, his stiffened neck cracking a bit as his eyes tried to focus on the boy hovering over him.

"Minho?" Newt croaked, his voice hoarse from sleep. Slowly he started to become aware of his surroundings and the aches on his body. He frowned deeply as he eyed the darkened forest around him.

"Yeah. Man, you're a mess. Figured it'd be best to get you out of the woods already," Minho muttered, crouched down beside him.

Something about Minho's words and the fact that the light of the day had remarkably changed was bugging in the back of Newt's mind. "Wait, are you saying I've been bloody sleeping all day?" he asked, horrified.

Minho shrugged. "I guess you have, princess. Everyone whom I asked about you were saying they had only seen you shortly in the morning. They figured you didn't want to be found so they left you alone. When I came back from the Maze you were nowhere to be found so I got worried and here I am," Minho smirked at him good-naturedly.

Newt had risen to lean on his elbows and swept a hand through his dirty hair. Minho looked at him with scrutinizing eyes.

"Newt, are you okay?" Minho asked, his voice laced with worry, his eyebrows drawn.

Newt sighed heavily. "No, Minho, I'm not okay," he answered truthfully. Minho looked as if he was gonna say something but Newt cut him off fast, "Let's just get out of here, okay?"

Minho closed his mouth and nodded, helping Newt to get up. As Minho hooked his arm behind Newt's shoulders, helping to steady him, Newt pushed him off, mock-irritated. "I'm not a bloody baby, Minho!" Newt scowled but his eyes betrayed him. He looked at Minho with warm gratitude in his eyes as he nodded his head to sign they should get going.

Minho smiled at Newt and clapped the blonde-haired boy to his back before falling to step beside him.

*.*.*

Newt went straight to the showers. He wondered his luck as he found the small room completely empty. He stripped quickly and stepped under the spray of water. As the warm water hit against the sore muscles of his back and ran over his filthy skin, Newt's mind was blessingly empty. Eyes closed, he stood under the spray for good fifteen minutes before using the soap and cleaning his body.

Newt grimaced slightly as he realised he had to wear the same clothes he had arrived with. Accepting his fate, he toweled his hair and put his clothes on, swearing to change them as soon as he arrived to his own room.

Minho was waiting for him outside the shower room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He smirked happily as Newt stepped out of the door.

"Ah, you start to look like a human being again," Minho quipped. He stepped forward, handing Newt a bag he had been holding in his other fist. Newt scowled but accepted the bag, taking a look inside. A delicious smell of fresh bread rolls, apples and goat cheese hit his nostrils and his stomach let out a loud growl.

Minho snickered. "Figured you might be hungry by now."

Newt closed the door and looked at his friend, a warm feeling squeezing his chest. "Thanks, Minho. Really."

"Nah, it's nothing. Anything for my buddy," Minho reassured, winking his eye.

Newt let out a laugh, feeling remarkably better than just hours ago. "Listen, I think I'm gonna head off for my room. I feel I could get back to bed already and anyway, I.." Newt's voice grew unsure by the end of his sentence.

Minho came to his help quickly. "I get it. Go ahead, sleepyhead. You sure could use all the sleep you can possibly get. I wonder if those bags under your eyes will ever smooth down," Minho said with a wondering tone. Newt slapped him in the arm but Minho only laughed.

"Okay, okay. See ya tomorrow, shank," Minho farewelled, raising his hand and starting to back away.

"Good that," Newt answered. He watched as the Asian boy walked back towards the kitchen. Newt sighed, turning around and starting to make his way toward the Homestead. Stubbornly he kept his thoughts on his warm bed waiting for him in his room. He wouldn't let his mind slip astray. Sleep would let him forget the pain hovering in his chest. Sleep was the only thing he needed.

Oddly enough, as soon as Newt rested his head on his pillow after having eaten and changed, dreams claimed him, enfolding his exhausted mind like the warm blanket around his body.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Hi there! Christmas is now behind and New Year is ahead. I wish you all had a lovely Christmas, and I wish you a Happy New Year! Have fun and stay safe, okay?

Here's the next chapter for you. There's something about this one that I'm really satisfied with, so I hope it will please you as well! As usual, your reviews rock my socks! I'll see you guys next year!

PS Last week I also made an ao3 acc with this same username and posted an one shot there. If you like my writing, please go check it out as well and share your thoughts!

* * *

><p><em><em>Can't erase, so I'll take blame<br>_But I can't accept that we're estranged_

Newt couldn't find him anywhere. He had checked every single room in the Homestead, wandered through the Fields, checked the kitchen twice and even visited the Slicer's. Thomas was nowhere to be found.

Newt swept frustrated hands through his hair. He tried to draw a mental map inside his head about all the possible places he still hadn't checked. As he slowly turned around in front of the Homestead again, his gaze fell upon the expanse of the trees in the distance. The answer was almost too obvious to be true. Growling, Newt started to make his way quickly towards the shade of the trees, his legs already knowing where to take him.

His heart started to pound hard in his chest as he got nearer to the familiar place. And, right on cue, when Newt stepped over that particular fallen tree, he could make out a shape of a human body leaning against a tree few yards away. Newt's step faltered a bit as he took in the delicate profile of the dark-haired boy as he stood there, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, his head hanging low, gazing at his own feet. He looked so beautiful in the faint light shining through the leaves that the sight of him hurt Newt's heart.

As Newt draw in a shuddering breath, frozen to the spot, Thomas suddenly raised his head and looked straight into Newt. A small smile appeared on his lips that made something inside Newt crack, and then he couldn't take it anymore. He rushed forward, his limp standing out visibly, and soon he had thrown himself against Thomas's strong chest, desperate sobs escaping his throat. He curled his fists tightly into Thomas's shirt and felt the other boy's arms come around him, smoothing up and down his back.

Newt buried his face in the crook of Thomas's neck, inhaling his scent and letting the tears slowly subside. Eventually he opened his eyes again and pulled slightly away, gazing into Thomas's gentle eyes.

"Tommy, I'm so sorry for everything, I just- can you ever forgive me?" Newt pleaded, his voice weak and tears gathering to the corners of his eyes again.

Thomas gazed at him quietly for a while, sighed and averted his gaze, lowering his head. There was a troubled wrinkle between his eyebrows that made Newt's heart skip a beat, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach.

"T-tommy?" Newt repeated, his voice trembling and tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

Thomas's hands moved from his back to his arms, rising slowly to curl around his shoulders and gently pushing them apart.

"I don't know, Newt. I barely know you."

The words hit Newt deep, twisting in his flesh like a dagger. He felt his knees buckle a bit under him and if Thomas hadn't still had his hands around his shoulders, he would've fallen to his knees. He stared at the dark-haired boy, eyes wide with shock and mouth slightly parted.

The hazel eyes looked back at him but there was no emotion behind them. They were cool and guarded, not giving out what was really going on on the younger boy's mind.

As Thomas started to ease his hold on Newt's shoulders, Newt suddenly gasped and hurried to get the words out of his mouth, "W-why are you being like this? Why a-are you holding me close and watching me with caring eyes in one moment and then staring at me with that cold, emotionless gaze in the other? What is going on?" The pain in Newt's chest twisted deeper by every word slipping past his lips.

Thomas eyed him, frowning slightly and sighing softly. He shook his head a bit, rising his other hand and cupping the back of Newt's head gently, burying his fingers into his hair and pulling the shaking boy against his chest once more. Newt stared wide-eyed over his shoulder, not quite knowing what the hell was happening.

"It doesn't matter, Newt. After all, you're only dreaming."

*.*.*

The next few days were kind of a blur for Newt. After having dreamed of Thomas and the forest, Newt felt as if he had somehow lost his footing altogether. He realised the Thomas of his dreams was just that; a figment of his imagination. He wasn't real. The real Thomas wouldn't welcome him with open arms and kiss everything okay again. Thomas in the dream had been right, they barely knew each other. Newt had no idea how Thomas would handle these kind of things but he knew the boy wouldn't just forgive him if he thought Newt was just using him. The fact that Thomas's image of him would be this easily swayed had been shredding Newt's heart to pieces all this time but he also knew how stubborn the boy could be.

But Newt could be stubborn as well. He wouldn't just run to Thomas and beg him on his knees, apologizing for the things he hadn't done. Even if that was what his subconscious seemingly wanted him to do, he wouldn't let Thomas get out of this so easily. Though, lately Newt had come to realise that punishing Thomas meant punishing himself as well.

The day after his dream Newt had been even more conflicted than he ever could've imagined and he sure as hell didn't want to see Thomas. Luckily for Newt, avoiding Thomas became much easier since the next morning Ben had been released from the Slammer and Thomas had been thrown in there instead. Yes, avoiding someone was much easier when the said person would be locked in a small room without any occupation than his own thoughts for two days.

Newt's master plan had turned out to be harder to bear than he first thought. Instead of feeling relieved and unaffected, he had this hollow ache in his chest that he just couldn't shake. It followed him everywhere and intensified whenever his thoughts slipped back to the dark-haired boy. Newt had found that mechanical, repetitive work such as chopping firewood, picking weeds and watering the plants helped his messed up and noisy mind calm down into this haze in which he didn't really make out the surrounding world and other people. That suited him just fine, too.

But the change in Newt's demeanor didn't go unnoticed by others around him. Weird, and sometimes even worried, glances were shot his way whenever Newt walked past or worked silently in the Fields.

On the third day of such behaviour, Minho couldn't take it anymore.

Newt had been tending the land for good few hours straight. He was ditching the small field where they had planted new plants the other day, digging his shovel into the dry ground again and again. His shirt was sticking to his skin with sweat, his eyes oblivious to the world around him other than the browns and greens and greys of the ground.

Suddenly someone seized a hold of Newt's shovel just as he was about to strike it down, stopping his movement abruptly. Newt's forehead creased with confusion as he turned his head toward the intruder.

"Minho? What the hell?" he growled, trying to tug the shovel away from the other boy's grasp.

"Nuh-uh, buddy," the black-haired boy said sternly, snatching the object from Newt's hands altogether. "Dude, what's going on with you? You sure look like death these days. When was the last time you took a break today?"

Newt scowled at his friend, sweeping his hand over his dirty face, exhaling heavily. "What does it bloody matter? I'm fine! Leave me alone, Minho," Newt snarled, reaching for the shovel again.

Minho stepped back, keeping it out of the blonde-haired boy's reach. "That's not gonna happen, Newt." He stuck the shovel to the ground and took a firm hold over Newt's shoulders, starting to guide him toward the shade of the trees on their right. "Come on, shank, you're taking a break right here and now," Minho smirked in an unyielding manner.

Newt had barely time to realize what had happened as his sore legs started to move. He didn't find the energy to resist as Minho walked him over to the trees and sat him down on the large rock, the burn of the sun cut off by the thick foliage above them.

Minho sat down on a smaller rock opposite him, leaning his elbows to his knees and eyeing Newt warily, a sliver of worry etched in his features.

"Now, just spit it out, Newt," the boy demanded sternly.

Newt raised his gaze to his friend's troubled eyes, feeling more exhausted than ever. He tried his best to play it off, though. "I'm bloody fine, just-"

"No, you're bloody not fine!" Minho shouted suddenly, his voice raising so that it struck Newt silent immediately. "Anyone with a working pair of eyes could see you're everything but fine! You barely eat, you barely talk, you walk with your shoulders hunched and your eyes seem to just stare into nothingness most of the time. That's the equivalent of _very much not fine_."

Newt's mouth drew into a thin line as he avoided Minho's gaze stubbornly.

There was a long sigh as Minho asked after a moment of silence, "This is about Thomas, isn't it?"

Newt's head snapped up in a flash, his eyes wide and a tremble climbing up his spine at the mention of the Greenie. He blinked his eyes furiously as his vision started to blur against his will, and he had to lower his gaze again.

A slow smile spread over Minho's face. "Thought so," the boy chuckled good-heartedly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Newt mumbled, an angry frown on his face.

"Aw c'mon dude, we've all seen the way you two look at each other. Truth be told, it's kinda hard to miss," Minho smirked knowingly.

Newt growled and shoved his friend with his foot. Minho just chuckled again, an amused grin on his face.

"So, what's the problem? You like him, he likes you. It should be simple, right?" Minho urged.

A grimace took over Newt's face again after a second of lightness in his heart. All the worries, doubts and misunderstandings filled his mind yet again and his voice was full of regret as he uttered the words, "Tommy doesn't _like_ me. He despises me."

Minho frowned at him, straightening his spine. "Now why would you say that?"

Newt felt his eyes starting to fill again as he quietly told Minho what had happened with Alby and how Thomas had burst in right in the middle of it all, and all about the fight in the woods. As he told what Alby had done, Minho went visibly rigid beside him, his face turning disgusted and then murderous, but Newt quickly talked him out of it and slowly Minho slimmed himself again, swallowing the harsh words and restraining his urge to break something. After Newt was finished, he had to try to clear his throat from the lump that had gathered there during his story, a tear slipping down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, hoping Minho hadn't seen it.

"I'm just.. so tired all the time. I don't know what the hell I'm even doing. I just.. I just feel so empty and I can't stop thinking about him," Newt whispered, a pain clear on his voice.

Minho was quiet for a while. Then he whistled low between his teeth. "Wow. Man, you're so shucked. Shucked for good, it seems. Jeez," the Runner wondered, ruffling his hands through his hair. Newt scowled at him, irritated and a little hurt by his friend's response.

"Stating the obvious, aren't ya?" Newt spat.

Minho stared at him, raising his hands. "Whoa, easy there. I didn't mean to be a shuck-head about it. I just.. had no idea how deep you've fallen, mate." There was a gentle smile tugging at the edges of his lips. "I can see this is pretty big for you.. But you know what? You aren't the only one who's suffering. The only guy I've ever seen as devastated as you is sitting inside the Slammer right at this moment. First I thought his gloomy mind was just due to his punishment, but now I think I know better than that."

Minho stood up, crouching before Newt and putting a firm hand on his shoulder, looking his friend straight into his eyes. "Listen, Thomas doesn't hate you. He never has."

Newt stared back at him, swallowing hard under the earnestness radiating off of Minho's voice. Then a wicked smirk started to work its way onto Minho's lips.

"Tommy-boy is just as head over heels with you as-"

"Shut it! You bastard," Newt grunted, a deep blush coloring his cheeks.

Minho snickered, straightening up and crossing his arms lightly over his chest.

"Seriously, though, you two gotta get your shit together. For all our sakes. I'm not fond of looking after you two hopeless shanks being all miserable for a day more than necessary," Minho stated, his eyebrows raised challengingly.

Newt shook his head, leaning his palms to the rough surface of the rock under him. "Easier said than bloody done, that. Tommy won't even listen to me."

Minho squinted his eyes and looked at his friend speculatively, clearly pondering something inside his mind. Then his face suddenly cleared, a knowing smirk appearing on his lips.

"Let me handle this, buddy. I'm gonna get you two a chance to talk to each other in peace. Trust me," Minho winked at him. Newt was extremely suspicious about the whole turn of events and opened his mouth to protest but Minho raised his hand, stopping him.

"No buts. Minho has it all figured out. Now, let's go and get you some food. You look like you're gonna pass out any second."

Newt really didn't have enough willpower to fight Minho anymore at this point.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **It's the last day of my Christmas holidays and soon the school will be messing up my head again. Luckily I got a lot of stuff figured out considering my fic during the holidays and I'm excited to share it with you guys. Thanks so much for keeping up with me and supporting my story! I'm very grateful for each and every one of you!

Here's something most of you have probably been waiting for.. Please share your thoughts with me and enjoy! x

* * *

><p><em><em>Tell me do you feel the same<br>Hold me in your arms again __

Newt had been pacing a small circle in front of the door leading to the showers for a good thirty minutes. He had barely got any sleep at all last night. Again. This time it was all Minho's fault.

Just as Newt had been about to climb the stairs in the Homestead to finally fall to his own, soft bed and sleep all the exhaustion away, Minho had stopped him by slipping a small piece of paper into his hand and winking at him before disappearing again. Newt had blinked after him a couple of times before taking the rest of the steps upstairs and opening the folded note in the peace of his room.

_"The showers. 6am. Take all the time you need."_

Newt still had his old Runner watch but he hadn't worn it after he stopped running. He had kept it in the small drawer of his bedside table ever since, only occassionally taking a look at it. Time didn't matter in the Glade as much as it did in the Maze and anyway, over the years Newt had developed quite a skill to tell the time by the changes in the light, the move of the walls and other regular, everyday things happening around them.

Last night, however, he had squeezed the small watch in his fist, lying on his back on the bed and staring at the roof of his room, sneaking glances at the small watch every few minutes. He had dozed off only momentarily and when it was five o'clock in the morning, he just couldn't lie still anymore and he made his way out of the Homestead altogether.

And here he was now, waiting for Thomas to finally arrive.

He swept his hands over his face and hair for the umpteenth time, groaning softly.

"Get a bloody grip," he muttered quietly, irritated with himself.

Newt exhaled heavily and stopped his mindless pacing finally, leaning against the door and sliding down slowly to sit on the step before the door. He pulled his knees up, hanging his head between them and trying to get his beating heart under control.

He sat there silently for several minutes before he heard the unmistakable sound of approaching steps. Newt's head snapped up and his pulse started to speed up immediately.

Newt had no time left to prepare himself as suddenly Thomas burst out from the left corner of the building, stopping in his tracks as soon as his eyes descended on Newt. Newt felt something expand in his chest for seeing the Greenie again, first time in days, and felt the irrational urge to run and throw himself in his arms as he did in his dream. His cheeks colouring slightly pink, Newt rose back to his feet, never breaking the delicate eye contact.

Finally Thomas appeared to come back to his senses and the vulnerability on his face that the surprise of seeing Newt there had created was quickly replaced by the emotionless, unreadable mask of indifference again.

"What are you doing here?" Thomas demanded. All the walls between them were back in mere seconds and Newt's heart twisted painfully in his chest.

"I need to talk to you, Tommy, and I need you to listen to me," Newt said, taking a small step closer, gazing steadily into Thomas's eyes.

"Really? We haven't talked to each other in days and we've managed just fine. I'd say we just keep it that way," Thomas remarked, his fists curling by his sides. Newt didn't miss the slight tremble in Thomas's voice, though.

"No! I'm not letting you get away with this. I'm not letting your bloody stubborness come between us anymore! There's something I have to say and you're bloody well gonna listen to me!" Newt shouted, his body trembling and betraying him as tears moistened in his eyes. He draw in a sharp breath; he wouldn't let the tears slip.

Thomas stared at him, slightly taken aback by Newt's sudden outburst. Thomas opened his mouth slightly but before the boy could say anything, Newt cut him off.

"You want to hear the truth, Tommy? Because that's what you're gonna get. Since the day I met you, I've been slowly going mad. It's not enough that I can barely keep my eyes off of you during the day, you have to bloody sneak up to my dreams when I sleep and keep me awake for days straight because I just can't stop thinking about you. I've been trying to fight it because bloody hell, this isn't anything I've ever experienced before and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do. But I'm bloody sure I've been one shucking mess since you freaked out about Alby and wouldn't talk to me anymore. And I'm bloody sure I'm not losing you because of some stupid misunderstanding that would've been over and done with ages ago if you would've just listened to me!"

Newt swallowed hard, feeling slightly light-headed after the words had poured out of his mouth, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Thomas gazed at him, wide-eyed, the mask slipping from his face completely by Newt's words. His eyes were full of wonder and the boy looked like he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"I-I never thought you.. I thought.. you were with Alby?" Thomas mumbled, clearly having trouble trying to find the words.

Newt shook his head tiredly. "Me and Alby have history, yes, but things have ended between us months ago. They had ended for me, at least. I wasn't really expecting Alby to force himself on me like he did the other day.." Newt's voice drifted off, pain appearing on his features. It still wasn't easy to talk about the incident aloud.

"Wait, are you saying that..? Oh my God," Thomas uttered, shock taking over his face. "He.. He hurt you?" Thomas stared at Newt's eyes intently and seemed to find the answer there as the boy suddenly swore loudly, raising his trembling hands to tug at his hair. "I will fucking kill that bastard."

Newt twitched visibly at the sudden rage in Thomas's voice, "Thomas, stop it, it's okay-"

"It's not shucking OKAY, Newt, he-" Thomas shouted but stopped short as he glanced at Newt again and noticed how on edge the boy already was. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down for Newt's sake. Then a new thought appeared to have crossed his mind as the boy suddenly groaned.

"Oh man, I can't believe what an ass I've been.. Newt, I'm so, so sorry."

Without thinking, Thomas had started to close the distance between them, stopping a mere yard away. His eyes were full of regret and concern and Newt's breath hitched in his chest by the intensity in Thomas's gaze.

"Newt.. I swear I had no idea.. Are you alright?" Thomas asked him urgently, raising his hand but stopping it soon, unsure of what he could and couldn't do.

Newt eyed his hand before taking a step closer and raising his own hand to meet Thomas's, intertwining their slightly trembling fingers together. A slow smile started to spread on his lips as he gazed at the dark-haired boy from under his eyelashes.

"Not really.. But I will be." Then he closed the remaining distance between them, curled his free hand around Thomas's neck and brought their mouths together, kissing his lips softly.

Thomas stood frozen for only a second before he responded to the kiss, moving his lips in sync with Newt's. He brought his own free arm around Newt's waist, drawing him closer. Their joined hands were squeezed between them and they loosened their fingers, moving their palms against each other for a moment before sliding them over each other's bodies.

Newt had dreamed of kissing Thomas so many times but he had to admit not even his wildest imaginations lived up to the reality. There was nothing like the warmth of Thomas's soft lips against his own, his brown, thick hair between his fingers or the strong, lean body quivering against him. There was nothing like the pounding of his heart or the blood rushing through his veins, so very alive and tingling from head to toes.

_This is real._

_This is finally real._

As Newt's tongue swept lightly over Thomas's lower lip, the boy drew in a sharp breath but opened his mouth pliantly for Newt to discover. As their tongues touched, Newt felt a knot unfurling in his stomach and heat spread over his whole body.

Slowly but surely their kisses started to heat up. Thomas's hands were roaming all over Newt's back, his arms, his shoulder blades, the nape of his neck. Newt's both hands had found their way to Thomas's hair but suddenly he brought them to rest on the boy's shoulders, starting to push him backwards until the younger boy's back hit the wall of the building. As the back of Thomas's head was knocked to the wall slightly, the boy drew his mouth momentarily away from Newt's, opening his eyes and gazing at the boy before him with a dazed expression.

Newt panted hard, letting his hands slid lower to settle on Thomas's waist before opening his own eyes and gazing at those hazel eyes intently. Thomas's cheeks were flushed and lips slightly swollen from the kissing.

"Tired already, Tommy?" Newt inquired, his eyebrow arched and a challenge twinkling in his eyes.

"You wish," Thomas growled before claiming Newt's mouth again.

As their mouths were savouring each other, Newt slipped his thumbs beneath the hem of Thomas's shirt, swiping them over the bare skin. Thomas trembled suddenly, drawing in a shuddering breath between kisses. Newt's eager hands disappeared under Thomas's shirt completely, splaying over his hot skin, exploring. Thomas's skin was slightly sticky with sweat and as Thomas's hands grasped his own hips tightly, an idea crossed Newt's heatened thoughts.

"I think you could use a shower, Tommy," Newt smirked against Thomas's lips and drew back just enough to utter the words aloud.

Thomas pushed their foreheads together, opening his eyes and looking at the flushed blonde in front of him. As their eyes locked, the dark-haired boy whispered, "In that case.. I insist to have company."

And quicker than Newt had ever seen him, Thomas seized hold of Newt's arm, threw the door to the showers open and drew Newt in. Suddenly Newt was squeezed between the door and Thomas's strong body, the younger boy snogging him senseless.

Something inside Newt flared up like a bonfire and there was no stopping what was about to happen between them. Shirts were discarded in mere seconds and their trousers, socks and shoes followed suit in no time. Wearing only their underwear, Thomas started backing towards the line of showers on their right, Newt pushing him along.

Thomas gasped loudly as his back hit the cool surface of the tiles. Newt turned the shower on, adjusting the water temperature from cool to warm before stepping under the spray and drawing Thomas against him.

The spray of water hit the boys, drenching them in no time. Their hands didn't seem to get enough of each other's bodies and they kept exploring every exposed inch of skin they could reach. The skin to skin contact had been almost too much, but now when they were both slick with water, the throbbing in Newt's boxers was unbearable. His tongue slid across Thomas's cheek, his teeth nipping the sensitive skin just below his jaw. Thomas moaned aloud and Newt couldn't help rolling his hips against the other boy. The growl that escaped both their throats at the sensation was enough to make Thomas lower his hands on Newt's underwear-clad arse, tugging at the wet fabric impatiently. "I need these off," Thomas murmured, urgency lacing his hoarse voice.

"Go ahead," Newt breathed against Thomas's neck. That was all the assurance Thomas needed, and the boy stripped Newt off his boxers and slipped out of his own as well.

There was absolutely nothing between them now, and as Newt closed the distance between their bodies altogether, the sensation so intense hit him that he was forced to curl his arm around Thomas's back to steady himself.

"Tommy.." Newt whimpered. Thomas cradled Newt's jaw with his palm, making the second-in-command look at him straight in the eyes.

"Newt.. You have no idea what you do to me," Thomas said with such wonder in his voice and eyes that it hurt Newt's heart.

"I have a pretty good idea, actually," Newt murmured as a wicked grin spread over his lips and his hips thrust against Thomas.

Thomas's head arched back with a groan and Newt used the opportunity to plant his lips to the outstretched neck, sucking the delicate skin and nipping it lightly with his teeth. Newt kept moving his hips against Thomas's in an accelerating pace when he felt the other boy's hand wander across his chest and stomach. Thomas turned his head and caught Newt's lips again with his own at the exact moment as his hand curled around their hardened members. Newt's eyes widened and his mouth parted from Thomas's with shock as Thomas moved his hand slowly up and down.

Thomas's eyes were heavy with desire as they locked with Newt's. The blonde-haired boy noted faintly how on edge the Greenie was himself and couldn't help the smirk forming on his lips. But the look on Thomas's eyes was searching.

"Is.. Is this okay?" the boy asked, a tiny sliver of uncertainty creeping to his voice.

Newt groaned and dug his fingers to the skin of Thomas's back as he was holding him close.

"This is bloody amazing, Tommy," Newt managed as Thomas's hand suddenly squeezed a bit tighter around them.

Seemingly satisfied, Thomas picked up his pace, unable to hold it in anymore. Newt curled his arms around Thomas's shoulders and felt himself building up towards the point of utter pleasure.

"Yes, Tommy, faster, yeess-" Newt breathed and Thomas's hand gave them one final swipe that sent them both over the edge almost simultaneously. Newt's moan was so loud it pierced the steady sound of the running water and was muffled as he bit his teeth gently on Thomas's shoulder, almost unconsciously. He registered Thomas's surprised intake of breath only vaguely as the blood rushed through his body.

The two boys sagged against each other, panting hard and curling their arms around each other to hold themselves on their trembling feet.

A smile so wide that it lit up all his features spread on Newt's lips as he buried his face to the crook of Thomas's neck, feeling more content and _right_ than ever before.

_This is finally real._


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your wonderful response to ch13! Your reviews keep me going and encourage me more than I can say. I appreciate each and every word coming from you!

4 days at school and all the stress and hurries are back as if they never left. I try to find time for writing as well, but since I'm graduating in just a few months, my time is quite limited at the moment.. I must ask for your patience, but I promise I will keep writing and finish this story. It might take longer than I planned, but I won't give up, no matter what.

Now, I'll give you a new chapter to read! Enjoy! x

* * *

><p><em>And I wanna call you mine<br>Wanna hold your hand forever_

The shower that Newt and Thomas shared was probably the longest one in the Glade's history. Luckily for them, Minho was true to his word and no one came to interrupt them.

When the two of them finally stepped out of the building, stupid smiles plastered on their faces, it was way past their usual breakfast time. They had dumped their clothes into a bag Newt had snatched somewhere in the laundry, deciding to take care of the cleaning later. Instead Newt had found them something else to wear for the time being; there was a cupboard full of spare clothing for the Gladers who didn't have their own drawers like Newt had in his room.

Newt had the smallest clothes he had found from the cupboard, wearing a grey tank top and brown trousers. Thomas had a white shirt that certainly fit him in all the right places and khaki-coloured chinos. Newt kept sneaking glances at the boy beside him, unable to prevent his thoughts from lingering on the memories of how it had felt to touch the skin under all that fabric..

When Thomas caught him looking again, Newt turned his gaze quickly away, but it didn't stop Thomas from taking his hand, squeezing it a bit and murmuring, "What is it?"

Newt bit his lip to prevent the foolish smile tugging at his lips to spread fully on his face. "Nothing. I was just.. looking at you."

"Why were you looking at me?" Thomas whispered, stepping closer to Newt and nudging him lightly with his shoulder.

"Stop it, Tommy. I'm not playing this with you," Newt growled, feeling a blush rising to the skin of his cheeks.

"Whatever you say," Thomas said with a sing-sang voice but suddenly leaned in and pecked Newt to the corner of his mouth, startling the blonde.

Newt stared at Thomas, wide-eyed, but the boy wasn't looking at him anymore. Instead he had this huge, happy smile on his face that shone like the beautiful, bright stars in dark night sky. Newt felt his chest expand with sudden warmness that spread there. He turned his head back and let the smile get the better of him.

_God, I'm such a bloody sap._

The kitchen was empty, just as Newt had thought it would be. There was only Frypan rattling by the cupboards at the back of the room, his back facing them. Newt walked over to the counter and knocked at the wood a few times.

"Oi, Frypan, you got any breakfast left for us?" Newt inquired as the cook turned around to face them, not as startled as last time Newt had secretly confronted him.

Frypan smiled at the sight of them, coming closer. "Well well well, look who we have here! It seems Thomas has outlived his punishment!" He raised his fist for Thomas to bump it with his own, which the dark-haired Greenie did with a laugh.

"Yeah, never been better! Just quite hungry, that's all," Thomas grinned, eyeing Newt with a flash of heat in his eyes that sent a hot wave over Newt, yet again. Newt tried his best to keep his reaction from showing on his face, but probably failed since Frypan raised his eyebrows and kept glancing between them.

"Well, with that I can help," Frypan said, and started to shuffle around the kitchen, bringing the breakfast supplies back to the counter. Newt snatched himself an apple from the bowl whereas Thomas took a plate and started filling it with sandwiches. Frypan took two glasses and filled them with orange juice, handing them to the boys.

"There you go," Frypan smiled and then glanced at the boys' clean clothing and wet hair. A knowing smirk suddenly appeared on his face. "So, I guess the showers are working again, then?"

"Huh? What are you yappin' about?" Newt wondered, accepting the glass and taking an eager sip, not quite realising what the boy meant.

"Let's see, yesterday evening Minho stopped by and talked me into cutting off the water supplies to the kitchen and asked me to back his lie about the whole water supply of the Glade being disabled, including the showers. It appeared he was pretty unyielding on the matter that no one used the showers today. He needed me to prove that the water supply really was disabled so that no one would get any ideas. There was some grumbling amongst the lot but the concrete proof really seemed to convince the few sceptics. Minho used his rather vivid vocabulary to scare off the rest," Frypan explained, snickering. "But it made me wonder why exactly Minho needed the showers deserted. He wouldn't give me a straight answer, just told me he had his own plans and ordered me to keep my mouth shut. I guess his plans had included you two, then, as you appear to actually have showered a while ago."

Newt's eyes widened, a deep blush rising to his face and as he glanced at Thomas, he noted that the other boy was just as taken aback, his mouth gaping open and his cheeks reddening. Newt tried desperately to get a grip and clear his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

"Uh, we- um-" Newt searched for words desperately but his mind was a blank space. Then Frypan burst out laughing.

Thomas and Newt glanced at each other, frowning and then scowled at their friend.

"You- you guys are just so ado-" The two murderous gazes shot at Frypan's way must've been too much since the boy cut his sentence short, shook his head and just grinned, "Nevermind, go eat your breakfasts, finally. I have job to do."

And with that the cook turned around and continued his work as if never interrupted in the first place. Newt and Thomas blinked a few times but backed away to sit around the table, avoiding each other's eyes and starting to eat silently.

After some time Newt felt a foot brushing against his shin gently. He stilled his quiet munching, raising his gaze to meet Thomas's opposite him. The dark-haired boy winked at him, eating his sandwiches happily. Newt shook his head and touched Thomas's knee with his own under the table, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Are you seriously going to survive till lunch by eating only one tiny apple?" Thomas mused, chewing on his second sandwich.

"Sure. Are you seriously going to be able to _eat_ lunch after wolfing down all that?" Newt asked back, raising his eyebrow.

"Hey, I'm a teenager, I need loads of food. Which makes me wonder how you get on by eating so little," Thomas defended himself.

Newt shrugged. "What can I say, I have a small stomach. One that you seemed to be quite fascinated with just a few moments ago," he added with a heated whisper, smirking.

Thomas stared at him, a sly grin working its way to his lips. "Can't deny that," he whispered back as his eyes lowered to Newt's mouth.

"Slim it, Tommy," Newt murmured, nudging Thomas's leg again. Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly his gaze was locked to something behind Newt, his eyes widening momentarily before settling on a cold, hard stare.

"Tommy?" Newt repeated, worried. Thomas shook his head slightly but Newt had already turned his head around, his heart dropping to his stomach for seeing the familiar boy standing there.

"A-Alby?" Newt croaked, utterly taken aback. He had intentionally avoided the dark-skinned boy during the past few days, unable to confront him after the incident in his room. All the anxiety and hurt was back in mere seconds, his muscles tensing, ready to flee. But he held himself in place because he was fully aware that he would have to have this conversation sooner or later.

Alby stood at the door leading in and out of the kitchen, glancing between Newt and Thomas intently before settling his eyes on Newt's face. His voice was calm and deep, back to normal. "Newt. Can I speak with you for a moment? Privately?" the boy added as he eyed Thomas again.

The legs of the chair creaked against the tiles on the floor as Thomas quickly rose up.

"No," the dark-haired boy stated sternly.

Alby raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. "Excuse me?"

Newt stared at the two boys, dumbfounded.

"No, I'm not letting you alone with Newt. Not after what-" Thomas started but suddenly Newt came to his senses again, rising from the table as well and cutting the boy off quickly.

"No, Tommy, it's okay. I'll talk to him. It's okay," Newt assured, raising his hands in a calming gesture.

Thomas looked between him and Alby with narrowed eyes and Newt could see the inner struggle the boy was going through as their eyes locked. Newt shook his head almost imperceptibly, managing a small smile. In the end Thomas sighed heavily and nodded. He walked around the table and took Newt's hand in his own, squeezing it tightly.

"I'll be just around the corner. Just call out for me, and I'll be here in a second," Thomas whispered to him.

"I know, Tommy. Go," Newt urged, drawing warmth and strength from Thomas's touch before letting him go.

Thomas flashed him a small smile of his own before retreating, scowling at Alby as he passed the boy. Alby scowled back and nodded in acknowledgement for Frypan who disappeared behind Thomas after having listened in the scene.

Then there were only the two of them in the room. Swallowing, Newt raised his gaze to meet Alby's.

"So, let's talk," Newt stated, bracing himself and raising his chin just a bit.

The hard mask that had settled on Alby's face after Thomas had defended Newt in front of him seemed to be swiped away in mere seconds and the boy's whole stance sagged visibly. His arms lost their rigid posture and lowered to rest by his sides as the boy looked at Newt with desperation in his eyes.

"Newt.. I want you to know that I wasn't myself the other day. If I had been, never in my life would I have done any of the things I did that night. I- I know that I lost your trust and I probably don't deserve it anymore, but I can assure you that I will never do anything like that again, ever. You know I've been drinking before, but never have I lost myself so completely as that night.. Clint used alcohol to clean some of Ben's injuries and then somehow we all ended up drinking that stuff and it got out of hand, I admit it. And you can't possibly know how sorry I am, Newt, and how I regret everything about what I did. If only I could take it back.." Alby's voice almost broke by the end of his confession and he had to clear his throat, swiping a hand over his face.

"But you can't." Alby raised his head again as he heard Newt's words. The blonde-haired boy's voice was cold as ice. "You can't take it back. Even though the whatever the hell you had been drinking had messed up your head, the thoughts were surely coming from somewhere. And I can't forget neither the words you said nor the things you did.." Newt had to swallow and close his eyes for a second.

"Things aren't going back to the way they were before, are they?" Alby asked quietly. Newt met his gaze again, and his heart hurt a bit for Alby as he saw the raw sadness swirling in his eyes.

"No, Alby. They aren't," Newt sighed.

Alby lowered his gaze, nodding along, defeated. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again, seeming to have gathered himself a little.

"I understand. But I need to know that we're still able to work together from now on. I can't run this place alone," Alby said, a sliver of uncertainty creeping up to his voice.

"Of course we can work together, Al," Newt assured him. Alby smiled then, and started to close the remaining distance between them. Newt recoiled at the sudden movement and took a step back, his hip hitting the table behind him and shaking it a little. Hurt flashed in Alby's eyes again at Newt's reaction, and the boy stopped a few feet away.

"Friends?" Alby asked then, extending his arm.

"Friends," Newt responded after a moment's hesitation, placing his hand in Alby's and shaking it formally.

Alby drew his hand back quickly, stepping back and allowing more distance between them. Newt was touched by Alby's tact.

"Good that. Now, we have an important matter on our hands," Alby stated.

Newt frowned slightly and asked, "What is it?"

"It's time to have a Gathering and decide what to do with the Greenie, right?" Newt's heart skipped a beat and he got a sick feeling in his stomach before Alby explained better. "He's been here for over two weeks and we have to decide his Keeper here."

Relief washed over Newt in waves and he felt like he could breathe again. "Yeah, of course. After lunch, perhaps?" he suggested.

"That's what I thought as well. I notified Minho about the Gathering before he left running today, so he should be back earlier," Alby said.

"Good that." Newt flashed the tiniest smile at Alby.

Alby smiled back. "Well, see you later, then," he farewelled, starting to retreat to the door.

"Yeah, see ya," Newt said back.

Almost as soon as Alby had stepped out of the room, Thomas stormed in. The boy strode across the room to stand in front of Newt, placed his hands on his shoulders and scanned the boy with his gaze from head to toes. "Are you okay?" he asked in a rushed tone.

Newt rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile spreading over his lips. He curled his hands around Thomas's waist, bringing them close.

"Yes, Tommy, I'm fine."

And he was. In fact, he felt lighter and happier than he had ever been.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Hello everyone, it's finally time for a new chapter again! For one reason or another, it seems that my chapters are only getting longer and longer.. I hope you can cope with that! Enjoy! x

* * *

><p><em><em>Right in front of me<br>Talk some sense to me  
><em>_

Newt and Thomas spent the morning closely together. They went to the Fields to continue the work Newt had begun the day before. Not soon after they had begun, Newt spotted Jeff crossing the grass near them. The fair-haired boy yanked Thomas with him as he ran to meet the Med-jack. Thomas tried to ease himself out of Newt's grasp, whining that there was nothing wrong with him anymore, but Newt was unyielding and insisted that Jeff took one last look at the Greenie.

Back inside the Homestead, Jeff lowered his Med-jack's bag to the table and asked Thomas to strip out of his clothes again so that he could take a look at his remaining injuries. Both Thomas and Newt made a noise of complaint at the same time and glanced at each other quickly. Jeff raised his eyebrows at the two of them.

"I thought it was you, Newt, who insisted for this check-up," Jeff asked in a bit of an accusing tone.

Newt blushed lightly and scratched the back of his neck. "Well, yeah, but I mean – is it really necessary-"

"I'm totally fine, there's no need for-"

"Oh for God's sake, let me just do my job here, okay? Now get out of your clothes, and quickly," Jeff growled, turning around and going through his bag.

Thomas rolled his eyes and glanced at Newt who was biting his lip. A slow smile spread on the dark-haired boy's lips as he quickly threw his shirt over his head and unbuckled his belt, stepping out of his pants, and leaving only his underwear on.

Newt's breath hitched in his chest and he had to swallow hard as his eyes roamed over Thomas's exposed body once again. As he noted the few, fading bruises on his skin that he had missed in the heatened haze of the morning, he felt quilt turning his stomach into knots. He hadn't given much thought to Thomas's lingering bruises and cuts while they both had lost themselves in each other. Newt was just about to step closer as Jeff turned back around and asked Thomas to sit on the bed.

Thomas did as he was told, grudgingly, and let Jeff do his check-up in peace. Newt watched as the Med-jack kept his approach clinical but couldn't quite suppress the hiss that escaped his lips as Jeff placed his hand over the dark bruise on Thomas's side. Thomas took a sharp intake of breath at the pain the touch ignited, but as he heard Newt's hissing the boy raised his head quickly and met Newt's darkened eyes, smiling to him reassuringly.

"Hurts?" Jeff enquired, raising his eyebrows. Thomas nodded, wincing slightly.

Finally Jeff retreated, standing a respecting distance away.

"Alright, it seems you're recovering just fine. The bruise might take a week or so to heal properly since the kick you received in your side was pretty nasty. But other than that.. Do you have any lingering pain, dizziness, troubles with your eyesight, throbbing headache, or any other abnormal symptoms?" Jeff listed with his fingers and Thomas shook his head at his every suggestion.

"Nope, nothing. That's what I've been trying to tell you, I'm as fine as I've ever been," Thomas assured, hopping off the table.

"Alright, good that. There's nothing else I could do for you, then. Now, I gotta hurry to take care of some sick sheep," Jeff muttered, backing away and cursing under his breath. Thomas started putting his clothes back on, chuckling at the Med-jack's swearing. At the door Jeff turned around, having one final thing to say, "Just try to stay out of trouble, Greenie!"

"Yeah, yeah," Thomas said, rolling his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, the trouble seems to find me, not the other way round."

As the door closed behind Jeff, Newt rushed to Thomas, unable to hold back the growing uneasiness which seeing Jeff so close to Thomas had caused. Thomas yelped as Newt grabbed his bare shoulders, leaning in and kissing him possessively. The dark-haired boy hummed in pleasure, parting his lips under Newt's angry probing and grabbing the blonde's waist.

After a while Newt drew his lips back, pecking Thomas's jaw and resting his forehead on the other boy's shoulder, breathing him in.

"Newt.. Were you actually _jealous_?" Thomas murmured, sweeping his hand over the blond's back, amusement clear on his voice.

A growl worked its way up to Newt's throat. "Shut up, Tommy."

"You know, it was _your_ idea to have this goddamned check-up-"

"God, you're an idiot," Newt scowled, claiming Thomas's mouth again in a quick, passionate, bruising kiss.

As he retreated slightly, Newt looked over Thomas's face, as if searching for something. In the end he sighed, lowering his gaze and swiping his hands over Thomas's abdomen and the few marks of violence there.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you earlier.. I kind of forgot you might still be in pain," Newt whispered, feeling the quilt stab at his stomach again.

Thomas took Newt's face between his palms, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "Hey, look at me. Did I look like I was hurt?" the boy asked, raising his eyebrows and in the end Newt sighed, shaking his head as a smile tried to tug at his lips. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Thomas smiled, swiping his thumbs over Newt's cheekbones.

Newt's eyelids fluttered closed as a shiver of pleasure ran over his skin.

"I only agreed to this because I knew it would reassure you," Thomas said, leaning in little by little. Just as their lips were an mere inch away, he breathed, "From now on, you're the only one allowed to touch me."

Newt gasped as Thomas closed the distance between them again, kissing Newt as if his life depended on it.

*.*.*

A few hours later, the twelve members of the Council made their way to the Homestead. Minho had returned from the Maze just in time for lunch and now the Gathering was just about to begin. Thomas had tried his best to get himself involved in the decision making (_"But you are talking about _my future, _don't you think I deserve a say in the matter?"_), but Newt had been strict and hadn't given in for an inch (_"The rules are the rules, Tommy, whether ya liked it or not. We will call you there when we're ready and you will have a final say about the decision. Can't make any promises, though.. It's always been the Keepers who have decided about the work distribution, and that's the way it's gonna be."_).

Finally Thomas had groaned in surrender and given up with his objections. Newt could clearly see the boy was none too happy about it, but offered him a satisfied smile before nudging the Greenie slightly with his elbow.

"Go, Tommy, I'll see you soon," he had murmured, letting his voice low. Thomas had watched him with a slight pout on his lips but at Newt's tone he offered him a lopsided smile, rolling his eyes a bit before starting to back away, making his way towards the Fields instead.

As Newt was now taking the stairs to the large Council room upstairs, he made a mental note to himself to keep his thoughts from drifting back to the dark-haired Greenie. It might be easier said than done considering the said boy would be the topic of the day, the blond-haired boy realised with a groan. His mind had still difficulties to grasp everything that had happened during this morning. He wondered if he had smiled more in the last few hours than during the last few months in the Glade. His cheeks wouldn't probably be able to keep it up for much longer.

Finally at the right door, Newt drew in a long breath and pulled himself together, swiping the ridiculous smirk from his face. He opened the door, stepped over the threshold and felt his neck flushing inadvertently as he realised he was the last to arrive to the room and everyone was already waiting for him there. He swallowed, closed the door behind him and made his way through the large, plain room towards the semicircle of chairs. He tried his best to keep his face as guarded as possible as he could feel eleven pairs of eyes boring into him.

Newt sat down on the only empty chair in the middle, on the right side of Alby. After having settled and nodded to a couple of boys, he moved his gaze to the left and met Minho's eyes. The Asian boy was smiling smugly and winked at him. Newt resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him and instead turned to Alby. Newt raised his eyebrows in an inquiring manner. Alby nodded to him curtly, cleared his throat and a silence ensued.

"Alright, now that the whole Council is present, I declare this Gathering begun," Alby said with his deep voice, eyeing the Keepers on the both sides of him. "The reason for this Gathering is the same as every month. The question of the day is, where do we put our Newbie, Thomas?"

They had been through this so many times already that Newt couldn't help but wonder how Alby still had the patience to all his formal words in their Gatherings. Newt understood order, but he usually appreciated more straightforward action than tricky, pretty words. He respected traditions, though, as they were quite essential in maintaining order in the Glade, so he would never mention his complaints aloud to Alby and in those few occasions when he had had to run the Gathering by himself, he respected Alby's ways, as well.

"Newt, would you take the notes?" Alby asked him, handing over the notebook and the pen in his lap.

"Sure," Newt said, accepting the tools and setting the tip of the pen on the paper, ready to write.

"Thanks. So, Keepers, what are your impressions of Thomas?" Alby enquired, looking around before settling his eyes to the boy on the far right, the Keeper of the Gardens. Before Alby could urge the boy to tell his opinion, however, there was a loud snort on their left.

"That slinthead's one shucking piece of klunk that will only cause trouble wherever he goes," Gally sneered, his arms crossed over his chest. Newt's fists tightened almost unconsciously on his lap.

Alby turned his narrowed eyes at him. "Did I, by any chance, give you permission to open your mouth?"

Gally shrugged. "You can't deny that-"

"We don't have all day for interruptions, Gally, you know that very well. We will hear each of you out, one by one, and then discuss the propositions. Wait. For. Your. Turn," Alby emphasized every word with such a strong authority in his voice that it caused Gally to back off.

As Alby nodded for Zart, the boy on the far right, to finally speak, Newt eased his whitened knuckles.

The fair-haired, broad-shouldered boy straightened up slightly and said, "Thomas worked really hard in the Gardens. He has strong muscles and clearly could manage physical work in the Fields, too. I would gladly take him to work with me."

Newt scribbled some of Zart's words to the notebook and chuckled inwardly as he recalled Thomas's complaints while they were working together on the Fields and Gardens few hours ago. _If Zart is to be his Keeper, Tommy will be absolutely delighted._ Shaking his head lightly, he raised his gaze again as it was Frypan's turn to speak.

"Thomas is a great fella and I'd gladly keep him around. After putting some thought to this, however, I think kitchen isn't exactly his place. I think it's better to put him somewhere else," Frypan stated, going straight to the point.

Alby was nodding along and asked for the next boy to speak up. He was a black-haired, short boy and in charge of the Sloppers, the least appealing work option in the Glade.

"Well, to be honest, I'm pretty sure we'll be able to figure out something a lil bit more challenging work to do for Thomas than cleaning the toilets," the boy mumbled, not looking like he had much of an opinion about the whole thing. Some of the Keepers rolled their eyes and soon Alby gestured for the next boy to speak aloud.

Winston was smiling and shaking his head while he gave out his thoughts. "I was the first Keeper to have Thomas and I could tell the boy wasn't exactly thrilled with all the slicing and stuff. Not much use of someone like him when it comes to slaughtering. He doesn't really have the blood lust in his eyes, if you know what I mean," the boy sniggered to his own joke, which didn't exactly have the desired effect on others and his laughter died out shortly.

Next up was Newt, but since neither he nor Alby were Keepers, they were skipped, as usual, and the rest of the Keepers were heard out first.

_A hesitant 'maybe' for Med-jacks (not ideal), a 'maybe' for Track-Hoes, a 'no' for Baggers,..._

And then it was Gally's turn.

"I wouldn't take that shank to work with Builders if it was the last choice we had. Can't stand the guy and I'm pretty damn sure the feeling is mutual. I'd say we simply put him with the Sloppers, that's were that shuckhead belongs," Gally scoffed, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Newt's hands were shaking so badly it was no use trying to write a thing down anymore. Somehow Alby seemed to sense that his friend was just about to snap and gave the blond a warning glance. It wasn't easy, but Newt managed to swallow most of the bile that had risen up to his throat and keep his words to himself.

Minho had been silent for the whole ordeal but as Alby finally nodded to him in acknowledgement, the black-haired boy smiled ruefully.

"Not many of you seem to quite know what to do with our Greenie, huh?" Minho enquired, his gaze sweeping over the group of Keepers. "Anyway, I have a suggestion for you. I'd say we make him a Runner Trainee."

That certainly erupted some chatter amongst the boys. Newt stared at Minho for a long time, feelings and thoughts mixing inside him.

_That's what you've been thinking about yourself, too, right?_

_Isn't this what Thomas has been on about the whole time he's been here?_

_There haven't been many who have deserved the chance to be a Runner so soon, but Thomas is definitely one of them, and you know it._

_And you also know Thomas would be great in it, don't you?_

Truth was, Newt believed Thomas would make an excellent Runner. There was no doubt about that. Lately, however, Newt had found himself more and more affected by the thought of Thomas becoming a Runner on a personal level. Being a Runner was nothing to take lightly under any conditions, and just the thought of Thomas _there_, trapped inside the Maze, out of Newt's sight, made Newt's blood run cold in his veins.

Newt was shaken out of his thoughts again as he heard Alby's voice beside him. "Would you care to explain us a bit what has convinced you to suggest something like this, Minho?"

There was a doubt in Alby's voice and Newt was suddenly reminded that their leader didn't think about their newest Greenie as fondly as one would assume.

"Well, for one, he's in perfectly good shape. He has some pretty interesting thoughts in that shuck head of his, and most wickedly.. he isn't afraid of the Maze. Not in the slightest. Since day one, he's clearly indicated his interest and willingness to become a Runner. He saw what's out there through that window on his first day, and he just shrugged it off. He wants to be a Runner more eagerly than any other Greenie I've ever met. And I don't care if that makes it sound like he's been whacked for good.. We don't have enough people like him here. Let's make him a Trainee and I'm shucking sure that he'll prove himself to be one of the best Runners we've ever had."

The smile on Newt's face grew gradually bigger at his friend's words.

Alby regarded Minho silently for a minute. Then he nodded slowly. "I can see you've put thought into this, and as you are the Keeper of the Runners, the Council will trust your judgement." Then Alby turned to Newt. "What do-"

Gally seemed to finally shake himself out of the shock that had taken over him at Minho's words. "That is the stupidest suggestion you've ever stuttered out of your shucking mouth, Minho. Thomas, a Trainee!? That's pure klunk! Pure-"

"GALLY! Which part of 'wait for your turn' did you not undestand? EVERY Council member gives his opinion first, and only after that we'll discuss them and vote. Until then, if I hear one word from you, I will have to ask you to leave this Gathering. Understood?" Alby snarled, a clear threat creeping up to his voice. Gally looked utterly pissed but lowered his furious gaze to the ground.

"So, Newt, will you tell us your thoughts on the matter?"

Newt bit his upper lip, drawing his mouth to a straight line as he pondered how to put into words the mess that his thoughts were. Soon, however, the answer came to him, and he talked with a strong sincerity in his voice, "I think Tommy could manage brilliantly wherever we decided to put him. And like Minho, I can also see that he clearly has great potential to become a Runner. He's clever and highly motivated, a bit impulsive, too, but that's not always a bad thing.." the last few words were a hasty stutter from Newt's lips as the boy flushed lightly. In a second, however, he gathered himself and continued, "I agree with Minho. Let's make him a Trainee."

As Newt glanced at Alby beside him, he was taken aback by the sadness he witnessed there. Soon, their leader turned his gaze away, though, and opened his mouth to speak.

"I can tell by your words and from what I've witnessed that our newest Greenie isn't quite the kind we get here every month. A few of you have agreed to take Thomas under your guidance with a good reasoning. I think.. We are quite soon ready to vote."

*.*.*

The discussion turned out to be short-lived, and the voting was over within the next thirty minutes, as well. After the decision had been made Thomas was invited to join them. As soon as the dark-haired boy stepped to the room, Newt's heart started to pound harder for the mere sight of him. Their eyes locked almost immediately, and Newt couldn't help smiling at him. Alby beckoned Thomas to step forward and asked him to sit down on the chair before the Council.

Thomas sat, eyed the boys before him and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Thomas, the Council has just come to an agreement of your future Keeper here. If you find yourself strongly disagreeing with the decision, we might reconsider it but I can tell you that never once has the Council's first decision been changed before."

Thomas nodded slowly, and Newt could see the boy was starting to get amused by all the formal words Alby offered. Thomas's eyes twinkled a bit as he asked with eagerness clear on his voice, "Well, what _is_ your decision, then?"

"Greenie, you've just been elected as Runner Trainee. Congratulations."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** I was planning to update at least once a week but my weekend was so full I simply didn't have the time.. My apologies! It's Monday and a brand new week ahead and I really should be sleeping but I decided to give you chapter 16 now, anyway. Enjoy! x

* * *

><p><em><em>All we're chasing is the sunset<br>Got my mind on you  
><em>_

Newt wouldn't easily forget the look on Thomas's face when Alby told him that he was to become a Trainee and, most likely, a Runner. He knew Thomas well enough already that he could see the boy was deeply touched and honoured by the idea of becoming a Runner just from the look in his eyes. He could tell the boy went through a variety of emotions inside him, and the dark-haired Greenie couldn't quite help the exclamation of wonder that escaped his lips.

"Wow, guys, for real?" Thomas uttered, his eyes huge and staring at the boys before him as one of his widest smiles started to spread on his lips. However, the boy suppressed it a bit, lowering his gaze momentarily as he cleared his throat and raised his eyes to meet he Keepers', a look so sincere on his face it hurt Newt's heart. "I.. I really appreciate this, I really do. Wow. Just.. Thank you. You won't regret this, I promise."

Alby narrowed his eyes at this a bit, but eventually their leader rose up, his deep voice echoing in the room, "Good that. I think we're quite finished here and that the Gathering is now officially closed." The boy nodded to the other Keepers around him until locking his eyes with Minho's. "Minho, from now on, Thomas and his training is your responsibility," he reminded, and the black-haired Keeper only grinned and nodded in response. Alby turned to face the others again. "Alright, let's go back to our duties now. After dinner, we'll begin the preparations."

With that, Alby walked out of the room. The other Keepers rose up as well, most of them approaching Thomas and congratulating him. Newt stood a bit afar and watched as Minho rushed to pull Thomas into a brotherly bear hug, cheering and clapping his fist to the boy's back. Thomas laughed with him and his face was the reflection of pure joy.

When the Keepers finally cleared out of the room, Newt stepped closer to Thomas.

"C'mere, my soon-to-be Runner," Newt murmured while beckoning the boy closer with his index finger. A slow smile tugged at Thomas's lips as he closed the distance between them, placing his other hand to the small of Newt's back and the other around his shoulders, pulling the fair-haired boy close. Newt slipped his hands to Thomas's back and met his eyes.

"Congratulations, Tommy," he breathed, smiling.

Thomas looked Newt in the eyes, happy. "Thanks, Newt. Listen.." The boy's gaze seemed to intensify, a strong emotion flickering behind his hazel-brown eyes as he looked deep in Newt's dark-brown ones. "I'm sure you had a significant say in this matter, and I bet without your support this wouldn't have been possible. So really, thank you. This means a lot to me," Thomas said, brushing the nape of Newt's neck with his fingers.

Newt nearly closed his eyes and purred at the small gesture. "In fact, quite a many people supported the idea from the start. There wasn't much persuasion needed.. You're welcome, however," Newt smiled and pulled the boy into a soft, lingering kiss.

After a while they parted and Newt gestured to the door, indicating they ought to go out. Thomas nodded in response and took hold of Newt's hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Hey, Newt.." Thomas said before they had reached the door.

"Yeah?"

"Alby was saying something about starting some preparations after dinner.. I wonder what he meant by that," the dark-haired boy muttered, a troubled wrinkle between his eyebrows.

Newt turned his head to look at the boy, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I guess you just gotta wait and see, Tommy."

*.*.*

The agenda of the night became clear for Thomas soon enough. After dinner Frypan shooed everyone out of the kitchen, demanding to be left alone to work on something with his cooks. Then most of the boys headed off for the forest, bringing piles of branches and wood and piling them up on the dry patch of ground where there was no grass, only sand and grovel.

Newt could see these little pieces of information clicking into place in Thomas's head. They were standing outside the kitchen when Thomas suddenly asked, "Are you throwing a party here or something?"

Newt chuckled and nudged the boy to his side. "Indeed we are, Tommy. And it's all for you." Thomas looked at him with raised eyebrows and so Newt continued, "We do this once or twice a month, but especially on the day we have a Gathering and the Greenie gets his own Keeper, to celebrate that he starts to find his own place here."

Thomas looked at him, smiling, his eyes warm. "I think that makes sense," Thomas murmured, squeezing Newt's hand.

Newt's face flushed and he cleared his throat, nudging Thomas again and starting to tug him towards the forest. "Come on, Tommy, it won't do to just stand here. There's work to do."

However, he couldn't quite suppress the smile playing on his lips.

*.*.*

While the sky was losing its light, the Gladers built a massive bonfire. Everyone was eagerly awaiting for the celebration to finally start. Some boys had brought some pots and kettles from the kitchen and created other handmade instruments their hands were longing to play. The atmosphere was excited and it was hard not to join it, Newt realised. And it wasn't as if he had any reasons to pout, anyway. Not right now. Even if the worry for Thomas was there nagging at the back of his mind, tonight he would let it go and just enjoy seeing Thomas so happy and gleeful.

Newt and Thomas were carrying a long log between them. Other boys had already carried a few other logs and placed them around the bonfire so they could have something to sit on. Suddenly there was a shout from a small distance away. "Oi! Help me carry the food there! I've only got two hands, after all!" Frypan was carrying a huge tray full of sandwiches and grilled meat, gesturing back to the kitchen with his head. A few boys ran to meet him and deliver the food to the table which they had carried there earlier.

"Excited, Tommy?" Newt inquired, smirking at Thomas.

The dark-haired boy turned to him, grinning. "You guys truly seem to invest in this stuff."

Newt chuckled, amused. "Oh Tommy, you know nothing yet."

They placed the log to an empty spot a bit further away from the fire. Newt brushed his hands against each other and glanced around.

"I guess we're soon ready to start," Newt noted, looking at the chattering and restlessly moving crowd of boys around them.

"Thomas, over here! Come!" Chuck called out from a group of boys who were each holding small torches, most of them lit.

Thomas glanced quickly at Newt who pushed him gently with his hand. "Go," he urged, smiling.

Thomas smiled back before making his way to Chuck. Newt watched as Chuck explained Thomas how they were going to lit the bonfire with the torches, all together.

"Seems like some shanks have grown pretty close today," someone murmured in Newt's ear.

Newt startled and jumped slightly, turning around in a flash. "Shuck, Minho, don't do that!"

Minho grinned at him, his eyes crinkling and forming two little half moons. "Easy there, little lion," Minho said, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. "I didn't mean to scare you so much."

Newt scowled at him lightly but shrugged soon. "Don't worry about it," he muttered, turning back to face the crowd, standing beside Minho now.

"So.. From what I can gather, my little aid was most profitable," Minho said, nonchalant. Newt glanced at him quickly but the boy wouldn't meet his eyes, a knowing smile playing on his lips, instead.

Newt had to bit his lip to prevent himself from grinning like an idiot. "Well, I guess you could say that," he answered, nudging his friend with his shoulder a bit. "Seriously, Minho, thanks. I owe you one."

Minho turned his head to look at Newt who was watching him with serious, grateful eyes. The Asian boy quirked the corners of his lips up, nudging Newt's shoulder back. "Anything for my two clueless buddies," Minho quipped, amused.

"Oh stop it, we're not clueless!"

"Take that again, please?"

"Oh, for the love of-" Newt groaned, shaking his head. "Alright, just shut up now."

"Told ya," Minho smirked, turning to face the bonfire again.

They were silent for a while and looked as Chuck helped Thomas to lit his own torch. Newt watched the boy with affection that didn't go unnoticed by Minho.

After a while, the Keeper of the Runners uttered out words that made Newt draw in a surprised breath. "You do good to each other, I can see that. I'm happy for you guys."

Newt felt so touched by Minho's words, he couldn't make a word out for a few seconds. Then he grimaced, shoving the boy with his hand again.

"Oh, shut up, you bloody sap!" Newt growled, but his eyes betrayed him as he glanced at Minho with wonder.

Then Newt noticed Alby who was making his way out of the Homestead. The Leader of the Glade was usually the one who unwrapped the celebrations with a word or two. The Gladers were clearly waiting for him this time, too.

As Alby looked at Newt's direction, the blond-haired boy nodded to him in acknowledgement. The dark-skinned boy strode over the grass and stopped to stand in the middle of the crowd, other boys forming a circle around him.

"Thomas! Come over!" Alby called out, gesturing with his hand. Thomas turned around and looked confused for a while but soon he made his way to the boy, glancing at Newt quickly. Newt tried to smile at him reassuringly. This was the tradition, after all.

Alby stood beside Thomas before the yet unlit bonfire. Thomas had handed his torch back to Chuck and he was now left with nothing to distract his fingers with so he kept cracking his knuckles lightly, looking a bit unsure of what was to come.

"Gladers!" Alby greeted the crowd. "Today our Greenie, Thomas, got himself a Keeper! From now on, he's truly one of us. Let's have some fun tonight and greet our future Runner, Thomas!" Alby clapped Thomas to his back as the boys around him shouted Thomas's name, cheering and clapping.

Thomas's cheeks were a bit flushed but he looked happy, still.

"Let's light up the bonfire and enjoy the night!" Alby shouted as the voices died out, just to start again right after Alby's words.

Alby shook hands with Thomas and the dark-haired boy returned to Chuck and the group of boys who were now moving closer to the bonfire.

Newt then gestured for Minho and side by side they started to make their way to Thomas.

"Hey, Tommy, you got some fire for us too?" Newt inquired, sweeping his hand lightly over the boy's back. Thomas whirled around, grinning at the sight of him and Minho.

"Hey guys! Sure, here," Thomas said, handing them torches and lighting them with his own.

"Let's light up this glorious night!" Minho exclaimed, cheering with the other boys as they settled on a circle around the huge pile of sticks and branches and hay.

"I count to three," Minho shouted so that everyone heard him. "One. Two. THREE!"

As the last word left his mouth, he, Newt, Thomas and all the other boys threw their blazing torches into the bonfire which flared up in seconds, the fire spreading everywhere and the flames burning hot and reaching high into the star-lit sky like fatal fingers.

"Thirsty, anyone?" Gally shouted a few yards away, holding a huge box full of small bottles that made bright clinging noises as they hit each other gently inside it.

The boys roared in excitement and rushed over, the box draining from drinks at a drastic pace.

"I'll get us drinks, okay? Just wait here," Newt said, winking his eye at the dark-haired boy.

Thomas smiled, nodding and suddenly found himself in the receiving end of enthusiastic congratulations from Minho and other Runners. Newt shook his head in amusement and walked over to Gally.

"I see the Greenie has you wrapped around his finger for good, huh? Making you his slave already?"

Newt raised his head as he heard Ben's sneering voice from a few feet away. The tall, broad-shouldered Builder was leaning to one of the tables a bit further away from the fire. Newt slowed his pace and narrowed his eyes.

"Shut up, Ben," Newt spat, glaring at the boy in disgust as he passed him.

"I'll keep my eye on him, you know. Everything's going way too dandy for him right now and I don't agree with you lot one tiny bit. But you'll see.. That fucking do-gooder won't be able to handle one single day in the Maze. That pathetic pet of yours won't-"

Newt moved faster than Ben had time to register it. He whirled around and pushed the smug, unprepared boy down to the table with such force it knocked the boy out of breath and thrust his forearm against the base of the choking boy's throat, hard.

"Don't you ever, _ever_, dare say something like that when I'm near. One word and I'll make sure the Grievers'll get a little snack sometime soon.. I couldn't be happier if I never had to see your shuck face again in my life," Newt growled, pushing his arm a bit deeper. Ben was gasping for air desperately, his eyes wild.

"Oi! Newt! Get the fuck off that boy! You won't hurt one of my Builders, you bastard!"

With one final growl and a hard scowl, Newt released the boy and straightened up, stepping several feet away.

"If you don't want me to get rid of your bloody rats for good, get them under control, Gally," Newt answered, letting Ben behind him crash down from the table, coughing and gasping for air and instead looked over his shoulder to the place where he had left Thomas.

Luckily there were a lot of people between them and almost no one had seemed to look too hard on to the incident in the shadows of the night. Including Thomas. _Small blessings,_ Newt thought darkly. He certainly didn't want the fight of the other day to be repeated which would've been sure to happen if Thomas had seen Ben and Newt strangling each other's throats.

There was a slight tinkling sound as Gally lowered the box with the remaining drinks to the ground and jogged over to check on Ben.

"Ben, you okay?" Gally asked, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. Ben shoved his hand away, groaning angrily and mumbling something incoherent.

Newt turned his back on them and walked over to the box, snatching two drinks there. As he turned around to leave, Gally was suddenly there, scowling him darkly.

"Seriously, Newt, what's wrong with you? Calm the shuck down, for fuck's sake. Do something like that again and I'll be sure to inform the Council," Gally said with a threatening voice.

Newt looked the other boy straight into the eyes, stepping closer. "And I'm telling ya, if Ben does one simple move towards Tommy again, I'll throw him to the Grievers. So you'd better keep him out of the way," he said coldly, a threat clear on his voice, as well.

With that, Newt pushed his way through, shoving the boy slightly with his shoulder. Gally stayed silent, shaking his head as Newt made his way back to the Runners.

Newt made his best to shake his gloomy appearance, but it wasn't as easy as he thought. However, he had decided earlier that this was Thomas's night and he sure as hell wasn't gonna ruin it by pouting and acting all weird. Taking a deep breath, Newt forced a small smile on his lips as he pushed through the crowd, nudging Thomas lightly with his elbow.

"Hey, you're back! What took you so long?" Thomas asked, smiling broadly at the sight of him but Newt noted the small crease that appeared between the boy's eyebrows as he took in the blond's appearance. "Hey, is everything alright?"

Newt handed him the other drink, trying his best to smile wider. "Yeah, of course. The queue was long, 's all. Here, take it."

Thomas accepted the drink and surprised Newt by taking hold of his waist with his other hand and pulling him closer. Newt blinked in surprise, blushing lightly.

"Seriously, Newt, what's wrong? I can tell you're upset," Thomas urged, brushing Newt's hip with his thumb slowly.

Newt took a shaky breath and shook his head just a bit. "I'm fine, Tommy, just a bit of arguing with Gally. Nothing new there," he said, shrugging.

Thomas looked at him for a long while but in the end the boy sighed. "Alright. If you say so."

"I say so. Now, let's have a drink, Tommy. The night is young," Newt said, whispering the end of his sentence with a low voice.

Thomas raised his eyebrows slightly as a knowing smile worked its way to his lips. He raised his bottle and clicked it against Newt's.

"Cheers!" they exclaimed almost simultaneously, and took a drag of the bottles.

Thomas swallowed, smiling, but pulled quickly away and spluttered the drink out of his mouth. Newt threw his head back, laughing in earnest with the rest of the boys around them.

"What the _hell_ is this!?" Thomas demanded, looking disgusted.

"The first taste is always the worst, but you'll get used to it soon enough. Just give it a go, buddy!" Minho chuckled, clapping Thomas's shoulder happily.

Thomas swore under his breath but did as he was told, and indeed, the boy swallowed a much longer drag already, only slightly grimacing as he lowered the bottle.

"There you go, Greenie!" one of the Runners cheered and the others joined in soon.

Newt felt the alcohol burn in his throat, and he thought maybe it wouldn't be too hard to get his mind off about the bad stuff, after all.


End file.
